


So different; Soul alike

by Nakahisa



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: A bit of Laurena and one adult word, Babies really cry a lot, Brief description of the Great War, F/M, Jarvey and Nott, Leta has a nightmare, Leta wants her best friend back, Meet ups and Dates, Mentions of Corvus Snr and Jr, Mentions of Newt's expulsion, Mentions of house elves, Never stack files too high, Newty gets a cameo, Only own my headcanons, Romani history that might not be very accurate, Scamanders love their scones, hugs are needed, memories can hurt, mentions of Grindelwald, wishing wells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakahisa/pseuds/Nakahisa
Summary: Theseus and Leta as they grow up, meet each other, begin a friendship that eventually progresses into something more.





	1. As children

As a child, Theseus Scamander would neither actively seek out people to befriend, nor crave for it and purposely bring attention to himself.

Perhaps it might have been because he was accustomed to solitude (being an only child), or he was used to having less-than-healthy levels of human contact.

Both his parents were working. His father with the Ministry, and his mother was one of the few Hippogriff Breeders in England, leading a programme that saw her spending some time conducting field research. The only other person Theseus had any form of verbal communication, was with the house elf-doubling-up-as-a-nanny. Even she was too busy with the upkeep of the house to pay him extra attention, outside of the necessary fussing.

 

Theseus would often read the newspaper that came in via owl every day the moment he was old enough to recognize words. He was highly intrigued by the moving pictures that accompanied the headlines for the day. Little Theseus once thought that a sad-looking witch was stuck in the picture, and tried his very best to save her.

His mother, home at that time, could not help but laugh at her son's attempts at jabbing the paper, telling the witch (who had hidden at the corner of the frame by then) in the picture "Take finger, save you!"

Of course, where there were funny moments, there were also the serious ones.

Theseus was more interested in knowing why some pictures had people looking at him, scowling. Once, he had asked Jinky, the family's house-elf, why these people looked so angry. Jinky had hurriedly explained that it was a picture of bad people using dark magic and doing bad things, and that he should ask his father instead of her, before scuttling away to fetch the laundry.

Bad people.

His father worked at the Ministry, catching bad people too. Maybe he would grow up and protect people from dark magic!

Inspired, Theseus, with all the time he had to himself, would spend hours imagining himself older and stronger, pretending to wave his wand to apprehend these bad people, thus protecting his family and everyone else. Jinky had witnessed Theseus's imaginary play, and felt proud that her young master was going to grow up to be a person who protects, just like Master Scamander.

Excited, Jinky decided that the young master had no need for her attention, and happily kept out of Theseus's way, convinced that she was allowing him the space to grow.

 

\-----Some years later, in France-----

 

Leta Lestrange had grown to dislike attention.

She did not have many memories of her father and stepmother, but Leta remembered that her father, Corvus, had hardly ever spoken to her kindly. In fact, she could not recall if her father had ever actually had a proper conversation with her. He had preferred to let his hands do the talking.

Leta's mother had died, and Leta yearned to know if her biological mother would have even liked her one bit.

Her stepmother never spoke to her, always looking at her with disdain, as if Leta was lesser. A blemish. If there was a need to, her stepmother would speak to her attendant, and the attendant would repeat the words to Leta, despite them being in the same vicinity. At least her father was better because he acknowledged her existence through his beatings. Either way, Leta hated being in the same room with either parent, because it meant attention on her, and not the positive kind.

 

There were younger children who came by the Lestrange mansion, accompanying the adults who were there to meet with Corvus. These guests too, preferred to look past Leta, than at her. There was one incident, where four-year-old Leta was tripped by one of the guests' son. She had fallen and scraped her chin, palms and knees. Out of anger, Leta had retaliated by shoving the boy who was busy laughing at her, and ran off to her room.

Shortly after, her father appeared with another man and the same boy (now sporting red eyes, flushed cheeks, smirk in place) in tow, and had proceeded to physically punish her in front of the two other males. In spite of her screams of protests and pleas for him to stop so that she can explain, Corvus never did until Irma the housekeeper appeared and threw herself between Leta and her master's hand, taking the blow that was meant for the girl.

Horrified that his pure flawless hand had contacted with a lesser being, Corvus left the room. Held by Irma, Leta had never felt so angry (and later on when she learnt more words), humiliated, and guilty all at once. Friendless and lonely, the only other companion Leta had was the same person who was obligated to care for her.

 

A half-elf housekeeper, Irma Dugard, was tasked with the responsibility of ensuring Leta's basic needs were met from when the latter was a baby. Irma never spoke more than necessary, and did enough worrying over Leta to ensure the girl's survival. Despite the bruises and tears, Irma was never once approached by Leta for help. It was the housekeeper who had to find Leta when she heard the Master's shouts, comforting the girl and applying what little elf magic she had to sooth the redness on the skin.

Through years of receiving a fair amount of care, Leta grew to like Irma. Sometimes she would help the housekeeper with tasks that a five year-old could do, lips tugging at the sides when Leta knew she did something right, all on her own. Likewise, the half-elf gradually grew to geuinely care for Leta's well-being.

When Corvus Jr was born and basked in his father's pride and love, Irma wondered if there was any way to heal Leta's emotional hurt, as she spied from her corner a young Leta with such sorrow in her eyes as the girl witnessed her own father showering love on the new baby boy.

 

Affection that she had never had.


	2. Of Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's cries and Theseus's actions;  
> Corvus's cries and Leta's actions.
> 
> It all links up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular contrast between Theseus and Leta was interesting to write. I hope I did it decently enough. In addition, it is also important for future development, because it sort of acts as a catalyst to their characters.

When Theseus was 8 years old, he received a new responsibility. Newton, his new baby brother was born.

Theseus remembered having irregular sleeping hours, for his brother had quite the set of lungs when he cried.

He did not hate his brother, but neither did he have much love for the baby. Years of peace and quiet was suddenly destroyed by wails for food, change of nappies, and attention. Already receiving less attention from his ever busy parents, having a baby in the house brought time with his parents down to nearly zero, despite having his mother at home.

 

One afternoon, Theseus was in his room trying to finish up a no-maj arithmetic problem sum (his father deemed it necessary for him to get a headstart). His mother was out at the backyard tending to the hippogriffs, and Theseus was given the duty of taking take of his brother, who was napping in his parents' room.

A loud cry pierced through the house and Theseus flinched. Attempting to ignore the cries, Theseus tried to focus on completing this particular equation, hoping that his mother's maternal instincts would take over. However instead of recalling formulas, it felt like all he had in his head were the wails from his brother.

Closing his eyes, Theseus tried to will away the noise.

 _Crack_.

He opened his eyes and looked at his hand. The pencil he had held was now broken into pieces. He sighed. Accidental bursts of magic had been plaguing him recently, and he was secretly relieved that this time it was just a stationery. Resigned to the cries, Theseus let his pencil clattered on the desk and dragged himself to his parents' room.

 

Peeking into the crib, Theseus wondered why anyone could think of babies as cute. His brother definitely was not, with his scrunched up eyes and red splotchy cheeks. Newton, as if sensing that somebody was with him, stopped his cries long enough to stare at his older brother. He blinked, sniffling, before his lips trembled again and another wail escaped from his throat.

Theseus wasn't sure what to do. He remembered that his mother would pick up the baby and settle him against her shoulder, then pat his back and whisper gentle words like "Hush little one" or "Shh it's ok Little Newty".

Climbing over the crib and tumbling onto the soft mattress, Theseus gingerly crawled over to his brother. He had never really had such a close encounter before, as it was usually his mother or Jinky that attended to Newton. Sitting cross-legged, Theseus slid his hands under Newton's armpits and heaved the baby up, managing to awkwardly settle him on his thigh. Without the height from standing, imitating the shoulder position was really difficult, so Theseus decided to circle his arms around his brother. Fortunately for his ears, Newton had stopped his crying and was calmer, letting out quiet sobs instead.

Feeling accomplished, Theseus continued to hug his brother, swaying sideways. Hearing nothing from his brother, Theseus looked down and to his bewilderment, saw Newton smiling at him, snot and saliva sticking to his shirt and forming a trail.

Well, if all it took was a hug to calm his brother, Theseus would definitely not mind it at all. In fact now that his brother was smiling, Newty did look slightly cuter than before, mucus and all.

 

\----------

 

Irma cradled Corvus Jr. close to her chest, rocking the crying baby. "Mistress Leta, could you please help me bring Corvus's milk from the table?" Leta did as told, running back into the baby's room. Irma took the bottle from Leta and sprinkled a few droplets of milk on her inner wrist. Satisfied with the temperature, she gently nudge the rubber nipple of the bottle into Corvus's mouth.

The baby instantly quieten down. Leta stared at her half-brother, suckling the bottle with his eyes closed. She had helped Irma care for Corvus a few times whenever her father was not around.

 

Corvus was the cutest baby she had ever seen. He was also the only baby she had ever seen and held, tickling him just enough to hear his giggles. Leta would not outright admit it, but she did quite like her brother. Corvus also had a tendency to grab whatever he could, which included her fingers and hair. Sometimes Leta would offer her index finger, and marvel at how tiny his fingers were in contrast to hers. Corvus was an easy baby to care for. He was a cheerful little one, more often quiet or cooing in his baby language, besides the usual baby wails for attention and basic needs.

 

One day Leta woke up earlier than usual. She did not feel good, her fingers were cold and clammy again and her stomach felt weird. However, it felt different from when she was ill.

This felt like danger.

Leta tiptoed to her door, opening it quietly and wide enough to sneak a quick look out. There were hushed tones speaking, and Leta recognized her father's agitated voice. The talking almost immediately, and Leta quickly closed her room door, dashing back into bed.

Getting caught eavesdropping would definitely earn her another beating, and she was on a clean streak for the past two months ever since Corvus was born.

 

The door flung opened and Irma entered. "Quickly Mistress Leta, get dressed. Master will see us in his room."

Leta did as she was told, not liking what was happening. She went to her father's room, seeing her father cradling her brother, stepmother nowhere in sight. Leta stood quietly, waiting to be addressed. Irma soon appeared, dragging along a travelling bag which she soon magicked away.

"Dugard, the safety of this house has been compromised by a pesky youth. My son is no longer safe here. You will bring him far away. There is a magical community in America. I have sent word to them. You will bring him there safe." He glanced at Leta, his spawn born from his lust for Laurena, sharing the same blood as the youth out for revenge. "Take her with you, there may be use for her yet."

The man took one last look at his son, the baby sleeping soundly bundled in his blanket, and handed him over to Irma.Irma bowed respectfully, cradling the baby and headed for the carriage. Leta followed, knowing better than to say anything at all.

She had no idea what was going on, and Irma only knew what was instructed of her. Leta hated it, the strangeness of it all.

 

They boarded a ship heading for America, assigned to a small room. Corvus had woken up when they walked up the gangplank, as if sensing it was not home. He had been crying and crying, calming down only enough for Irma to finally tuck him into the bassinet next to Leta, before climbing into bed herself. Leta was in bed but she could not sleep, fighting back the feelings of nausea. Her brother decided against that too, and began crying his lungs out.

Leta was frustrated. She did not understand why she had to leave, did not like being on the ship, she did not like how her stomach felt uncomfortable, she wanted the peace and quiet of her room, and most of all she really wanted Corvus to stop crying. Leta tried everything she knew, from tickling to patting him. There was no calming him down, and Irma was in deep sleep.

 

Leta blinked back tears, determined not to cry. What wouldn't she give for just some silence from him?

 

\----------

 

Theseus was at Diagon Alley buying supplies for his third year at Hogwarts. He noticed that more people than usual were reading the papers. As his mother paid for his textbooks, he pulled his brother's hand, stepping out and walking over to the newspaper stand.

 

_LESTRANGE HEIRS LOST AT SEA, POSSIBLY DEAD._

 

Included in the article, were a picture of a young girl and a baby. The girl looked no older than his brother Newton, and Theseus cannot imagine his own brother lost in the depths of the water.

 

"Hey Newty, isn't this sad? This girl's your age but she's possibly dead."

"Am not Newty. It s-sounds silly! Who the girl?"

"Alright then, since you brought a lizard to the table during breakfast earlier on, you shall be called..." Theseus paused for the dramatic effect.

"You... Shall be called..."

Newton looked up to his brother from his perpetual gaze on the ground.

"Newt."

Newton sighed at the ground, and felt himself dragged into another hug.

"To answer your question, the poor girl is called Leta Lestrange. Just know that as your brother, I will not let anything take you away ok?"

"Yes Thee, now stop h-hugging me p-please? It's embrasing." Newton pleaded with his older brother, who absolutely loved hugging him.

"Alright for now, and only if I get to call you Newt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newt cannot pronounce 'embarrassing' yet. As a 4-year old, I think he's liable to make some errors here and there, especially if he's already showing some signs of contact avoidance (especially the eye contact).
> 
> Well, these events definitely shaped some of their thoughts and behaviours. 
> 
> It's not mentioned particularly how Theseus became a hugger (was he always one?) so I decided to add my 2-cents on this. Plus accidental magic. Also, with the age gap between Theseus and Newt, the former will definitely say some things that may not be appropriate for a young kid to know just yet. For example, expecting his brother to know what being 'dead' is. Of course, he then simplifies it for his brother to understand.
> 
> For Leta, I decided to end it there because most of us would have seen or read CoG and we all know what happened on board the ship. Oh, her entire strange feeling in the room was suppose to be her instincts/magic perception working on overdrive. I wrote her as having an amount of love for Corvus that was never given a chance to fully develop. Based on what happened in CoG and her years of regret/guilt, I feel certain that these stemmed from strong feelings of love too. 
> 
> Oh yeah, don't worry. Theseus and Leta will definitely meet.


	3. Unfortunate circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theseus wonders what went wrong with his wish, and meets Leta for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously, I was drawing parallels to Theseus's and Leta's lives. From this chapter onwards, there'll probably be more Theta interactions.
> 
> Also, I thought I should address this part. I don't have the Scamander parents named partly because I suck at names and partly because I don't have them playing a very active role in this fic. Please excuse me for my brusque portrayal of them, I'm sure they are responsible parents with their own style of parenting, which gave us two great/lovable Scamander brothers.

At Hogwarts, Theseus had a slight difficulty in adjusting to living with so many other fellow peers. After being alone for so long and then 2 years with a baby brother, having 4 other boys his age in the same room as him was quite a culture shock. For one, having to deal with others' messes had grated on his nerves. Attending combined classes with another house was worse, with the non-stop chatter before and after class. Eventually Theseus managed to cope by trying to blend in with the others, literally skulking at the back of class or group throughout his first year, just hoping to just get through all 7 years of school uneventfully.

 

But fate other things in stored for him.

 

Like his height, for example.

His neat boyish looks and extra growth spurt meant that girls were now paying him a bit more attention then he felt comfortable. Darn the extra height, he was still noticeable despite slouching. His next coping mechanism was to smile and back away when the girls were swooning.

 

Academics were next.

His good grades over the years meant that he was often called by the professor to answer questions or mentor his fellow house mates. In his fifth year, he noted the subjects to get 'Outstanding' for in order to realize his dream of becoming an Auror.

Needless to say, he did sufficiently well enough to advance.

 

Leadership.

Theseus was scouted by the Hufflepuff quidditch team captain to go for try-outs, and made the team with his natural reflexes and keen eyesight. Theseus alternated between Chaser and Seeker positions (the latter only when needed), but cemented his position as Chaser in his sixth year, when he took over as captain and led his house to win two Hogwarts Quidditch Cups. Playing as a Chaser was practical, as he was able to better yell out instructions to the rest of team while zipping around in the air. It also allowed the new seeker, Eldrick Diggory, to bask in the attention, giving Theseus a much needed reprieve.

 

Especially ever since he made Prefect.

Theseus highly regretted tossing a Sickle into a muggle wishing well when he was 11-years old. Back then, he had yet to attend Hogwarts and was filled with excitement and anxiety.

So he had wished for a good and quiet school life.

Maybe muggle wishing wells worked the opposite.

Maybe he should have thrown in a _Galleon_.

 

\----------

 

With his mind set on his childhood dream of protecting people, his consistently high scores in his academics and good impression on his professors in school helped Theseus get recommended into the Auror programme after graduating from Hogwarts. By then, he was not the little boy who preferred to be left alone. Theseus had grown throughout the years in school and had learnt that attention was needed at times, in order to achieve his goals and dreams. He had gotten the hang of making use of his boyish charms to get others to trust him, and appreciated the good impression his name left on others. A career with the Ministry required that much, and Theseus would make use of attention if it meant securing a place in the Auror Office.  

Auror training took three years, and before long, Theseus graduated with his class as full-fledged Junior Aurors. Life as a junior level auror was not quite the exciting one Theseus had dreamt of when he was younger. He only assisted in cases and did researches for his mentor, but was hardly involved in active fieldwork.

 

Three years into his career, one morning Theseus received an owl from Newt. The letter only had three words written, but it was enough to worry Theseus. An hour later, he received another message via Ministry owl. He read the message and felt anger bubbling within him. He crumpled the message and chucked it into the bin. Picking up Newt's letter, Theseus let it join its companion in the bin and muttered _Incendio_. He got up and walked out of his office. There were things to settle. First, he needed to know the entire sequence of events. Second, he wanted to know who Leta Lestrange was, and what she was to his silly brother.

In the bin, Newt's letter slowly turned black from the flames.

The fire licked the edges of the paper, consuming it.

The words "Thee, I'm sorry." were soon reduced to nothing but a small pile of ashes.

 

\----------

 

From the moment Leta was caught, she knew she had ruined her precious friendship with Newt. While she had planned the incident with the Jarvey, she didn't think it would escalate to Newt's expulsion. In fact, the entire sequence of events happened so fast that Leta was not even able to speak for herself, or for Newt.

Panicking, Leta had kept her silence and watched as decisions were made by the school board. She desperately tried to make eye contact with her best friend, but Newt was too busy staring at the floor, face pale with horror after hearing the word 'expelled'.

Leta ignored everyone, even when her own guardians came to pick her up as she served her suspension at home. She called out for the boy who always had her back, for the boy who gave her companionship, for the teary-eyed boy who was now bowed and apologizing to two other men in suits.

She made her way to Newt, crossing the short distance, and just managed to get within an arm's length of the boy when she was blocked by the younger suited man.

 

"What do you want?"

Leta took a deep breath, willing her voice not to quiver, eyes not leaving Newt. "I just want to apologize to Newt."

"I will pass that along to my brother."

Leta looked up at the young man and met his piercing stare with her own desperate ones. She took in his appearance and attire. _Brother?_ Newt looked like the opposite of this man, with his messy hair and loose robes. Oh nevermind that, she needed to get to Newt!

"Please, Newt's my only friend and I need to tell him I'm sor-"

"My brother may not know his limit at times, but even I know he would never let his creatures hurt another person. I've got my eye on you, Miss Leta Lestrange. I hope you'll cherish your remaining years in Hogwarts. On behalf of Newt, I wish you all the best. Good day."

 

Theseus walked off, fuming mad. He could not believe what had happened within the last 48 hours. Getting into the Thestral-drawn carriage, the three Scamander males sat in silence.

Theseus closed his eyes and tried to will away his anger. He knew nothing rational came from being angry, and handling Newt required large amounts of calm and patience. He thought back to the girl he had spoken to.

 

Leta Lestrange.

 

The girl who was thought to have perished at sea, but lived and attended Hogwarts.

The girl who will now continue her education at Hogwarts while his brother had nothing.

The girl whose eyes met his earlier on, and gave him a feeling that she had been through and seen enough.

Her distress at Newt leaving her called out to Theseus.

 

Theseus wondered why he even thought about the Lestrange girl, but before he had a chance to delve into his own thoughts, the carriage stopped. Well, he would save that for later. Now, there were things to do.

Like preventing his father from hexing Newt for being an embarrassment to the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... Eldrick Diggory is an OC. It's like a tribute to Cedric Diggory.


	4. Their first contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theseus is at an event and meets Leta for the first time since Hogwarts.  
> He does not remember her off the bat, but as the night progresses, he finally realizes who his pillar companion is.
> 
> Leta knows who he is, and is wary of him. For she remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A major part of this was found in my Drabbles for the Soul fic.

Months after his brother's expulsion, the muggles were affected by the greatest conflict of their time. The Great War. The war to end all wars. Britain was one of six main European countries involved, and hundreds of thousands of people were either mobilized or mortally wounded from it.

The Minister for Magic, Archer Evermonde, forbade the witches and wizards from participating in war in his attempt to uphold the secrecy act. However, many who followed the muggle news suspected something else was triggering the war. True enough, reports and sightings of dark magic activity soon trickled into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Dark wizards and witches used the great war as a cover for their operations, hexing muggles for sport and setting dangerous creatures on them.

Dragons, for example.

 

Theseus Scamander was one of the wizards who participated in the war, leading the efforts against the dark magic users.

His brother, Newton Scamander, with his specialization in beasts, also contributed to the war efforts by wrangling the beasts, specifically the Ukrainian Ironbellies.

However, no one was interested in his awkward shamefully-expelled brother. All the attention focused on Theseus, both during and after the war. He disapproved, but kept his silence, for the power of the media would gladly twist his words and that might just lead to more unfavourable situations.

 

So Theseus Scamander became the War Hero, well-known to all for his bravery and strong sense of justice.

Newt Scamander was just the little brother who helped out in the war.

 

\----- A few years later -----

 

Theseus finished his obligatory round in the ballroom and hurried off towards the side of the room where the catering was set up at. As an up-and-coming mid-level auror with the ministry, it had been more of a requirement to approach and offer greetings to the other senior level position holders. Theseus did not mind mingling with guests and establishing connections. As the eldest son of the Scamander family and publicly known as the war hero, he had had plenty of practice in conducting himself to the public eye, and had gotten immune to it.

 

'But still..' He thought. 'The number of representatives from the pure-bloods were overwhelming.'

 

The evening's event was organized to celebrate the promotion of Torquil Travers to Head of the Department. Usually, a celebratory function will be held and invitations extended to the ministry employees. However seeing that Travers is a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, it would appear that the organizer did not hold back in all aspects, as a few guests were definitely not working for the ministry at present. Theseus himself had already met with the Travers, Fawleys, Carrows, and Blacks. He did not particularly like a few of the Pure-Blood families and their views, but duty called.

 

Grabbing a flute of champagne, Theseus retreated to the shadows of the ballroom, finding a particularly inviting hexagonal pillar to lean against. Except one side of pillar seemed to be taken. There was a lady leaning against the side, dressed in a beautiful midnight blue gown, silently observing the guests with her arms folded across her chest. She seemed to have noticed his gaze as she returned with a look of her own, as if challenging him.

_Why does she look vaguely familiar?_

Sipping his champagne to distract himself from her eyes, Theseus approached the lady and offered her a smile. "Good evening."

"...Good evening." The lady returned the greeting, and made to draw her arms tighter around her.

The hesitation and barrier did not go unnoticed by Theseus. He leaned against another side of the pillar, on the lady's right side, sighing softly to himself. They remained as they were for a few moments, with an awkward silence between them.

 

He was uncomfortable. Theseus felt awkward and wondered if it was his guilt for not minding his manners. He felt like he missed something, as if he had forgotten one very simple thing, and buggering hell he would find out what it was before the event ended or he would definitely be unable to sleep at night. Thoughts flashed in his head. 'Have I intruded upon her personal space?' 'Was I rude in not offering to grab her a drink? No it can't be.' He stewed in his thoughts for a moment more.

'Oh bugger, I did not introduce myself properly and proceeded to lean near her! Of course she would be guarded!' Theseus mentally palmed his face.

"Theseus Scamander you are an idiot." He muttered.

Unexpectedly, what he thought was a quite utterance to himself, turned out to have been heard by the witch next to him as she turned to face his direction. "I'm sorry, what?"

Groaning at his increasing silliness, Theseus inclined his head to her direction, avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, please pardon my distinct lack of manners. It has been a lovely but quite tiring start to the evening, and I just needed to have a break from it." He raised his glass and gestured to the crowd.

"..."

 

Theseus glanced at his pillar partner, observing her. She was not very tall, coming up to his shoulders, arms crossed, brown eyes looking at him with a glint. Was she studying him, just like what he was doing? Did she perceive him as a threat, based on her body language. Theseus's instincts told him that there was definitely more to her than meets the eye.

"Am I so worthy of your intense scrutiny, Mr Scamander? You might want to look elsewhere, or I might be tempted to accuse you of inappropriateness to a lady."

Theseus startled. His pillar partner was still watching the crowd, but spoke to him like it was a privilege given by her. That was interesting. He signed again and left his comfortable spot to stand next to her.

"My apologies. Truth be told, I noticed that you seemed tensed. Is someone causing any unease?" Theseus gestured to the guests' general direction.

"There is no need to apologize. I am sorry, the fault was mine, for such a tasteless way to initiate conversation. Any lady of sound mind would never reject a war hero's attention." Ignoring his question, she finally turned to look at him. Theseus met her gaze, offering a grin.

"No need to be sorry, I am personally quite delighted to be engaging in a conversation with you. I do hate to be a let-down, but you'll find that there is nothing about me that is heroic. I'm just a ministry employee."

"Just a ministry employee?"

"Indeed!" Theseus sipped his champagne, feeling the condensation on the external surface of the flute damp his fingers. "Just earning some money doing honest work, making sure people do not break the rules. Paying off bills and buying groceries for the family."

"Oh? Why Mr Ministry Employee, I am almost afraid to ask but did you just describe a muggle?" A hint of a smile graced her lips.

"Might that you are right. They are quite interesting and hardy characters you see, being able to achieve much without any magic in them."

"Careful now Mr Scamander. It will do you no good to be heard praising those born without magic. There are some who would not take too kindly to that." The lady nodded her head discreetly to a group gathered not too far from them.

 

Ah... Esteemed guests from the House of Blacks. One of the largest and oldest pure-blooded families who would not hesitate to disown their own if found fraternizing with anyone lesser than mighty and pure. Their ties and connections to the wizarding community definitely run deep.

 

"My thanks to your note of caution. How embarrassing to be caught unawares of my surroundings. It must be good luck to have you, my conversation partner, looking out for my well-being."

Theseus did let his guard down. His attention was nowhere else but on this lady in front of him. The more he took in the lady's facial features, the stronger the feeling that he had seen this her before. That beauty mark. Those soulful eyes.

Was it at the ministry? Diagon Alley?

 

"Well Mr Scamander, I did enjoy this conversation with you but it is time to look after yourself. It is always refreshing to know that there is one less wizard with unkind thoughts about muggles. However I see that there are others who have noticed us. Not quite a good thing, to be seen with me." The last part was mentioned so softly that Theseus was glad to have been trained to be sensitive to faint sounds.

"I defer to your good judgment. There will be other opportunities to debate about our non-magical counterparts. I do hate to say this, but I find myself rather lacking in basic manners earlier on and failing to rectify it. Allow me to properly introduce myself." Theseus bowed. Theseus Scamander at your service, and I bid you farewell for now.. Miss...?"

"Lestrange. If you did what you claimed you would do, I suppose you would be seeing me around. Do not count on meeting with me again. It may just harm your impeccable reputation." Offering a slight bow, she left.

Theseus stared after her.

_Lestrange. Beauty mark. What I claimed I would do._

"Oh."

Theseus had a flashback to when he confronted a girl his brother's age, saying he's got his eye on her.

 _Leta_ Lestrange.

Well, that explains why he found her familiar, and her body language at him. _  
_

Gulping down his drink, he left the flute on a tray and continued to make short conversations with the other families.

 

Try as he might, Theseus could not help but look around hoping for a glimpse of midnight blue. He felt drawn to her, to her eyes specifically. He had seen it before, during the war when he was with his fellow survivors. Eyes full of sorrow.

Well, he's definitely got his eye on her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theseus and Leta finally meet! This took forever to happen.
> 
> It has been some time since they last saw each other, and Theta only met once face-to-face.  
> Also with war, Theseus would push anything insignificant at that time, to the back of his head.
> 
> Thus, his slow realization (in fact, he only connects the dots after Leta shares her family name).


	5. A memory from their past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again, and words uttered from years back is brought up.

Work was literally quite up his neck, Theseus mused, wondering how he was managing to balance all these files in his hands.

He had successfully solved a case that took months to crack and had stacked all the files horizontally on his desk. Normally, he would ask a trainee to take charge of the filing but today he decided that he needed a break from his office. This  _need_ to escape from the dreary environment made Theseus stack the files and lift them by hand.

Today would be hands day. What an excellent idea!

\----------

_This was a bad idea, a very bad idea._

After levitating the files onto his hand, he had managed to keep his wand in his sleeve. He made it out of the Aurors offices while balancing the files like a professional he was, much to the bewilderment of other employees who spotted him.  

However, after nearly dropping the files for the third time while walking along the corridor, Theseus decided to end his weight-training exercise and charm the files to the Ministry of Magic Archives department.

But first, he needed to perform magic.

 

_Bugger, his sleeve was too far from his fingers. Wandless it shall be._

 

He tried to adjust his hand a little so that his palm was pressed below the pile, but ended up nearly dropping all the files when he attempted to shift his hand. He hurriedly tried to right the balance of the files.

The files stayed balanced, to his relief.

 

There was a special training classroom for auror trainees just ahead of him, and he could hear Travers lecturing them about the effectiveness of paperwork.

 _Well... Phew._ The last thing he wanted was to be the cause of a loud sound which would summon groups of impressionable trainees out from their classroom, and be the center of a humiliating situation.

 _Merlin's beard, why did he have to do this the muggle way?_ Getting control of the files once more, Theseus resigned himself to his fate and took no more than five steps forward when a voice from behind startled him, causing him to jerk.

Which in turn made the top files slide off, causing an imbalance. Again.

 

 _Oh double bugger_. Theseus watched helplessly as the files took a one way trip to the ground.

 

Or so he thought, as he blinked dumbly at the folders floating in midair. Turning around, blue eyes met brown ones as he took in the sight of the one person he thought he would not be seeing this soon. It had only been a couple of weeks since the ministry event.

 

"Well well, who knew that a simple 'Hello Mr Scamander' would have such an effect?" Leta chuckled at the sight, right hand holding her wand and tapping against the left palm. "Do my eyes fail me, or did an experienced auror with war experience just failed to control his paperwork?"

Righting himself and willing his embarrassment away, Theseus returned her greeting. "Hello Miss Lestrange. Fancy seeing you here at the ministry." Theseus waved his hand at the floating files. "I'm afraid it was neither. For you see, I was merely trying out a muggle way of carrying files and _someone_ unexpected happened." He tilted his head to her direction.

"Are you insinuating that _someone_ to be me?" Leta asked in mock indignation. The giveaway was the side of her mouth curling upwards.

With a flick of her wand again, the files floated and restacked themselves into two piles neatly on the floor.

"I have done nothing of the sort, though I must say... Your timing was impeccable. Saved me from looking foolish in front of the trainees." Theseus smiled at her. "Looks like I owe you one." Theseus took out his own wand and with a swish and flick, the two stacks of files levitated above ground. "Where are you headed to? Perhaps I could escort you there, if you would allow it?"

"Oh ho. Quite the chivalrous man, Mr Scamander. Paying back what you just owe me?" Leta replied as she walked towards Theseus. "Or is this gesture simply you upholding your words, all those years ago?" Pain flashed past her eyes briefly as she walked past him. Theseus, attuned to picking out such body cues, stilled his movements and stared after her.

 

_So she remembers that. I had wondered._

 

"Staring again, Mr Scamander? Such manners."

Theseus sighed helplessly at the air, shaking his head. Never had he expected to have his words thrown back at him, by the same girl he had directed them to.

He also had no idea if she was merely joking or using sarcasm to convey her disdain of him. Her tone for both were too similar.

 

Walking fast with floating files behind, he caught up with Leta. "Miss Lestrange, I noticed you are heading to the direction of the Wizengamot Administration. Is that your destination?"

"Mmm. I work there. For now."

Theseus cocked an eyebrow up.

 

 _There it is again, a certain coldness in her reply._ This was interesting. The Leta Lestrange he met for the first time gave him the impression that she was quite selfish (like the other pure bloods), although that may have been his temper talking. This Leta walking next to him seemed..

 

"Different?"

Theseus snapped out of his thoughts and stared at her, having been caught off guard. How did she complete his sentence? "Y-yes you were.. Uh.. Saying?"

Leta shook her head. "I asked if the route to the Archives has changed since the last time I was here two days ago. Is it different?"

Theseus furrowed his eyebrows, not quite comprehending her question. Belatedly, he noticed her finger pointing to a directional sign on the wall.

"You just walked past Archives."

_Oh._

He cleared his throat. "Ah ah, you forget. I said I would escort you."

"And I didn't say you can."

"You do recall me saying I've got my eye on you yes?"

"I may have reminded you about it. Also just curious, just one eye? What happened to the other? Lost at war?" She leaned against the wall, a poker face on.

 

 _This lady! First she jokes, then she pulls a straight face. IS SHE JOKING OR NOT?_ This was definitely not expected. Theseus questioned himself. _Shouldn't he be disliking her for causing his brother's expulsion? Why was he enjoying this conversation so much?_

 

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" He shot back cheekily, ducking down to meet her eyes head on, willing his eyelids to open as much as possible.

He saw a finger nearing his eyeball and pulled back just in time.

"Stabbing my eyeball now are we? Perhaps I should haul you to the Courts below, instead of the Administration office behind you. For one count of stabbing my precious eye."

"Perfect, I will then lodge a complaint about a certain wizard's wandering eyes and his claims to have his eye on me. What shall it be... Workplace harassment?"

 

 _I give up, is she being sarcastic or serious?_ Theseus drew back to his height and narrowed his eyes at the petite woman in front of him. He stuck his hand out. "A truce, for both of us to keep our jobs. I'm just a humble ministry employee after all."

Leta regarded his outstretched hand. "A truce for now, a handshake for later." Eyeing at a spot behind him, she continued. "Someone is looking for you, and we should really not be in contact. Good day, Mr Scamander." She turned and entered her office.

Theseus turned around and was greeted by the sight of Travers gesturing wildly at the floating files behind. Grinning sheepishly at his boss, he left for the Archives.

 

He should reconcile his thoughts before he sees her again.

 

 

He kind of wanted to see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leta's wand tapping is inspired from the scene in Paris's Ministry, where she sees Newt and Tina hanging off the shelf.  
> I'm aware that Leta became a 'part of the Ministry family' in CoG, but the nature of her current work does not require her to be directly under the employment of the Ministry.
> 
> I've also imagined Theseus to be someone who is curious about both the wizarding and muggle worlds, especially their differing methods of handling problems.


	6. The past haunts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theseus thinks back to his conversation with Newt about Leta.  
> Leta wants to make amends. Someone from her past pays her a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, I've been drowning in work recently and haven't had the time to write. Until today.

_Theseus stood outside Newt’s room, debating over knocking or just barging in. Since picking up Newt from Hogwarts two days ago, Theseus had busied himself between checking on his mother (inconsolable, she was) and calming his father (worse than a hangry cranky hippogriff). His brother had locked himself in his room after being subjected to a heated one-sided shouting match, and had been inside ever since. Not a single peep. The house-elves grumbled about ‘Master Newt not eating even scones because he’s not hungry. Can you believe that boy?’._

_Theseus gave up, deciding to knock and barge in. He saw a lump under the covers and proceeded to make himself comfortable._

 

_On the lump._

 

_A scuffle or two later, resulting in Theseus’s victory, he finally had Newt sitting up and sipping tea._

_“Tell me Newt, which part of father’s dialogue did you disagree with?”_

 

_The silence between them dragged on for awhile before Newt shifted, the rustling of the bed sheets disrupting the tension._

_“Leta is not evil. The Lestranges may not be the best, but Leta isn’t one of them.” Newt stared at the cup in his hands. “She has goodness in her heart, I know it.”_

_Theseus took in what Newt said. In a way, it was the truth. No one was innately evil. Circumstances dictated people’s reactions._

_“Alright, convince me. Now that you’re chatty, what about the Jarvey?”_

 

_Theseus could not decide on what expression to show on his face. “So you’re telling me, Lestrange told the Jarvey that to pay back the debt owe to you, it should call Nott an arse and jump on said person's head to scare him.”_

_“But Nott swatted the Jarvey and shouting offending names at it, so the Jarvey went out of control and attacked Nott.”_

_Newt nodded._

 

_Theseus sighed. Should he be secretly pleased that Newt had a friend who was willing to stand up for his brother (albeit slightly out of control), or highly appalled that his own brother had found and made friends with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest and rescued an injured Jarvey?_

_“You may be right little brother, but this does not change the fact that you were expelled because of her actions. She did not defend for you, did she?”_

_Newt’s silence confirmed it for Theseus._

_“Then you see where I am coming from. Maybe she has a kind heart, maybe she is truly a good person. However I need to see it to believe it.”_

_\----------_

It was night of the same day when Theseus decided to write to his brother, who was currently in some unknown rainforest in Brazil. Twirling his quill around, he wondered if he should write to his brother about Leta.

They never spoke of her again, but Theseus knew Newt still harboured unresolved feelings for Leta.

All those letters he had seen Newt hold, read, sniffle, and set aside without replying. Usually a person would chuck the letter away, but his brother still kept them neatly bundled up.

“Goodness in her heart hmm?” He wondered if Newt was right. His brother always saw the good in everyone (except Grimmson). His recent interactions with Leta did not reveal much, only that she can be highly sarcastic. She had remembered his line about watching her. That was, well, interesting.

Theseus dipped the quill in his ink bottle.

_'Dear Newt, it is I. Your one and only brother. If you're alive, please reply. If not, please reply. Do you remember-'_

_\----------_

Leta disliked rain, maybe even hated it.

She stood barefooted on the sand, staring out at the vast expanse of the waters. Watching as the clouds turned grey in the horizon. The dark skies that blocked out the sun seemed to sap up the happiness from everything. The chill from the winds and rain sent shivers and destroyed what warmth a person had.

The agony of waiting out the storm. To stand by, unable to do anything.

No magic – _good magic_ – can stop the force of nature. The rain from pouring, the sun from shining, the winds from blowing, the seas from swallowing up her br-

 

Leta jerked awake, and gasp for air. She looked frantically around her, taking in the sights. Cupboard, dressing table, side table, wand.

She hurriedly sat up and reached out for her wand, unclenching her tightly balled up fists. The stiffness, pain, and sense of forebode brought her back to full consciousness. Holding her wand shakily, she willed herself to quieten her breaths and listened intently.

All was quiet, except for the thumping of her heart.

 

Not an attack then. Just another nightmare.

 

Leta stood up and slowly walked to the window, giving a quick glance at the clock. It was dawn, a little too early for her to be awake for work. Pushing aside the curtains, overcast skies blocked out the rays from the rising sun.

Rain, she disliked it.

There was a niggling feeling that it would be a poor day for her today, but yet to work she must.

Maybe a certain tall man that worked at the department across her office would need saving again.

Leta flexed her hands habitually, waiting for the crescent imprints in her palm to fade off.

Theseus Scamander, older brother of Newt. Who would have thought Lady Luck would work her magic on her, and allow her contact with Newt’s brother after so many years?

Maybe now she could tell him to bugger off while she apologized to Newt in person. A move long overdue.

\----------

Theseus headed back to his office after a morning meeting. He had a paper bag of scones from a nearby muggle bakery, and was wondering about the Devonian and Cornish ways of eating scones when he heard raised voices coming from behind him.

He picked out a male and female voice, and out of curiosity, backtracked his steps.

Taking the exact same path from two days back, Theseus came upon a certain livid Lestrange facing off a man. Leta gave him a warning look and turned her attention back to other male, both by now keeping a tensed silence as Theseus made his presence further known.

“Hello. Is anything the matter? Heard some loud noises by my office and as an auror passing by, just had to do a little checking up on.”

The other man ignored Theseus and instead, proceeded to address Leta. “You owe me from years back. If you’ll consider my proposition, I may choose to forget your deeds. Think carefully woman, only I can save you from your wretchedness.” Turning around, he pushed past Theseus with a gruff “Piss off auror” and disappeared from their sights.

Theseus eyed the man until he was gone and shifted his attention back to Leta, noting her red teary eyes and enraged face. “Uh.. Miss Lestrange, are you-” He faltered slightly. “..do you need anything? That was quite... something..?”

What tension Leta had with the man from before, was now replaced with tension between herself and Theseus. Silence emcompassed them, before Leta glared sharply at the auror.

“I... I had _everything_ under control.” She hissed out finally. “I’m perfectly capable. What is with men and thinking that women are just objects or damsels that need saving.”

Leta gripped the side of her blouse. “What is your business. Do you want to investigate my background now, auror? I have nothing to do with you, nor do I want to have anything to do with you. Good day.”

Theseus stared dumbfounded, at her retreating back. The paper bag in his heads nearly slipped from his lax grip and he fumbled to catch it.

‘What in Merlin just happened?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not everyone in the 28 Pure Blood families are inherently evil/dark/etc. Just for the sake of not making up names, I settled for Nott.
> 
> You might already guess who came back to meet with Leta. The next chapter should be up soonish.


	7. Out of sight but not out of mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theseus and Leta begin to address their feelings and thoughts about each other. Separated by a distance and an incident, they take the time to do some reflecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to keep to a two-week update schedule (no promises). Here's the update, hope you'll enjoy it!

Work soon picked up and before long the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was flooded with papers, alarms, and the rush of human traffic. Reports ranging from mass slaughter of magical and non-magical folk to various kinds of exposure from their world to the muggles, came flooding in.

Theseus may not be the Head Auror, but as team leader tracking down the perpetrator for illegal usage of magic in a muggle town, he too had to sit in for countless of combined meetings and team investigation briefs.

He stared at the stack of reports again, mourning the short-lived happiness of seeing a clean file-less desk. There were a couple of possibly magical beast sightings in the countryside and he debated over heading down to the Beast Division or sending one of the trainees to do some legwork. If his brother were physically there, he would have gone down immediately.

But he wasn’t.

Newt was still somewhere in Brazil and probably ignoring his letter as usual.

 

Theseus leaned back against his chair and stretched, hearing his joints crack as the tension was released. He loved his job, and some of job hazards that came with it. But sitting for prolonged periods? Not to his fancy. Part of his responsibility as team leader was bonding with his desk and ever-growing mountains of paperwork.

Sitting in his office without the adrenaline and quick-thinking from being on the field, Theseus would usually dream about taking a holiday to wherever work could not reach him, or even heading back to the family home to visit his parents.  However, recently he found his thoughts drifting to a certain lady who once worked opposite his department. More specifically, the incident between himself and Leta, those weeks ago.

Being on the receiving end of her barb hurt more than he cared to admit. Theseus disliked being in the centre of attention in general, but somehow this feeling of being wronged? Misunderstood?

It bothered him.

**Very much.**

It made him want to drop his work and march up to the Lestranges' home, just to clarify his intentions that day and pray they go back to being civil with each other.

As friends...

Acquaintances...  

Or whatever role they played in their brief encounters.

The same day that Leta stormed off, just before the usual knock-off time for general employees, Theseus had gone to the Administration Office and asked for her. He had spent most of his free time chewing on his scones and replaying the scene in his head. Ever so determined to figure out if he had overstepped his boundaries, or he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Theseus went over his dialogue. He tried to picture how he had physically presented himself.

_Too forward?_

_Too inquisitive?_

_Too smiley? Too serious? Was it his paper bag of scones that gave the impression he wanted to sort things out and get back to lunch?_

Giving his best smile to the staff-on-duty at the office, Theseus had politely asked if a Miss Leta Lestrange was in the office, only to be told that she had been reassigned to the French Ministry and had taken an urgent portkey back to France, as per summoned.

_Wonder-bugger-ful, **how** was he going to clear the air between them now?_

 

Honestly, Theseus was conflicted.

Ever since his first encounter with Leta at the Ministry event, he had found himself wondering when would be the next time he would see her.

The wizarding community was small. The ministry and the pure blood community? Even smaller. It was as if, a tiny part of him was attracted to Leta, particularly her eyes. A lovely job hazard at times, being trained to watch out for body languages meant being extremely observant. He had looked at her eyes, those dark orbs. It felt like he was standing on the safe side, and behind those eyes, there was a soul drowning in darkness.

 

In all honesty, Theseus had no reason to pay any mind to the Lestranges. Or towards Leta in particular. He vaguely recalled telling his brother about the Lestrange children possibly lost at sea, and his amazement that the older sister had survived the seas. The next time the name Leta Lestrange came up was when his brother was expelled from Hogwarts. He was still a little annoyed that his little brother was the one penalized severely, but within the Scamander household, the name Leta Lestrange was never again brought up.

International events hosted between ministries and pure blood families often require his presence as a representative, and Theseus would usually just offer greetings to the respective persons-of-importance and retreat to the background.

No mentions of Leta, no sightings of the Lestrange daughter. Probably because of that, he had forgotten her existence too, until that day when they both shared a pillar and a short conversation.

They didn’t have a close friendship, they had only just met and had two conversations. Three, if he included that disastrous day. By all logic, there was no reason to care so much about her, about her seemingly new impression of him.

Still...

 

_"What is with men and thinking that women are just objects or damsels that need saving?"_

 

Theseus hoped that the reporters did not portray him to be like that. He also hoped that Leta said that out of frustration, and did not mean it. Unlike some other male aurors who disagreed with having a female presence in the team, Theseus was one of the few who recognized the value of having female aurors in the field. Or women working alongside them, in general. He had his own ass saved by one of his female colleagues. And as a general rule of thumb, everyone knew never to incur a women's wrath. There was a basis for that warning after all.

 

“Sir.”

“Yes Kingsley?”

“Our scouts have raised the alarm. Possible sightings of Grindelwald and his followers.”

“Let’s go then.”

Theseus got up and made sure his wand was with him. Finally, some field work to concentrate on.

Just what he needed.

 

* * *

 

 

Leta packed her work table, hours after work had officially ended for the day. She was exhausted and starving, the croissant from late morning lasting her until now (in between cups of coffee she downed to stay awake). While walking out of her work cubicle at the Bureau de la Justice Magique, she noted the lights on at the Aurors department.

So she wasn’t the only one having a special quill-bonding session at the desk.

 

It had been nearly two months since Leta was summoned back to Paris urgently by one of the Lestranges.

Nott that idiot. Was it so difficult to put the Jarvey incident behind him? And if tracking her down to the Ministry of Magic wasn’t enough, he had the galls to send someone to the Lestranges Manor just to create a scene involving her name.

All to get her in trouble.

No thanks to Nott and his scheming self, she was now barred from travelling out of Paris, and from utilizing any means to send messages outside of the country. Courtesy to a few strings pulled by the Lestranges family, no doubt about that. Curse the pure bloods and their fear of a tarnished reputation.

Not like her family namesake was known for anything good.

 

Desperate to retain an ounce of her freedom, she agreed with the Lestrange elders to remain in Paris. In return, they would allow her to continue working at the French Ministry, as a court stenographer. Apparently that post was vacant and the ministry urgently needed it filled. She would only be allowed her complete freedom again, on account for good behavior.

And behave she did, for two months.

Sitting in the chambers and transcribing speech for hours was not the work for her. Leta craved for the outdoors, for the open. Today, the 3 long back-to-back cases in the chambers were enough to make her consider quitting and bargain for field work with the ministry.

_As if they will._

 

Leta stepped across the atrium and headed up the slope, giving a polite smile to the duty clerk and security. They sneered with disdain or ignored her in return.

She snorted.

_Always great to know that some things remain consistent._

As much as Leta would liked to hex them for annoying her, for now she would bid her time. Play the good girl act, and get out of Paris the moment she legally could. There were two Scamanders she now had to apologize to, both consequences of her impulsive actions.

She sighed.

For nights Leta had thought of how she could initiate an apology to both men. An apology to Newt was a long time coming, and not only had she yet to settle it, she now owed Theseus an explanation for that day. Leta knew it wasn’t Theseus’s fault, but she had gone and blown up at the wrong person again.

 

Her temper happened, as always. Nothing good came out of her. Leta had honestly wanted to apologize to Theseus that same day, stewing in the office while her guilt ate her from within. However she chose to stay put at her desk, until the summons from the French Ministry caught her and she was made to respond immediately.

Leta rarely initiated verbal apologies.

Sure, she had her moments where she recognized her own wrongs and made amends for it, but it usually entailed something physical. A meal or drink treat, a gift to placate others.

This feeling of being in the wrong.

The sense of guilt and helplessness. Even as an adult, it was all foreign to her, and she detested it.

 

Thus she never hesitated to make it right with gifts, to make herself feel better. Gifts made the other party happy anyway, that she had learnt from young. Growing up, she had offended a slew of pure bloods, but a gift or two would always even things out.

This time though, Leta had no idea how to remove this feeling that was picking at her conscience. She could neither send messages, and her intuition pointed out that Theseus was unlike any other wizard she had met, and would likely take offense to gifts.

She sighed again.

It was strange, how she would go to such lengths for a person whom she conversed with just two times. She couldn’t be possibly attracted to him, though she would admit she quite liked their bantering. Few would dare to reply her in jest.

Besides, no one in their right minds would like someone like her. _I'm overthinking this._

 

Emerging from the fountain and into the muggle world, Leta walked on the cobblestone steps, hearing her heels on the ground. The air was cool, the immediate vicinity empty. There was not a sound, for it was already late at night and most were at home enjoying the a wine or two. Destressing from the day’s work.

Her stomach growled, a sharp sound against the blanket of silence.

Thanking Merlin for the empty surroundings, Leta disapparated home to food faster than anyone could say “Nott”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow. Burn.


	8. Paths crossed again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theseus is sent to France as part of a delegation. Theseus and Leta end up meeting each other, and the long-awaited apologies are exchanged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've received a fair amount of positive comments from you lovely readers. Thank you! Also, I'm grateful for the kudos. It motivates me so! <3s to you all. 
> 
> Also, work has been at its peak for quite awhile, thus the late updates. I'll try to post a new chapter bi-weekly.

It was October, and also the busiest month of the year for the French Aurors. Reports that reached the tables of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, are now surfacing on the desks of the Bureau des Aurors. There weren’t any sightings of Gellert Grindelwald himself, however cases of illegal and dark magic usage steadily increased day by day, and the aurors were busy doing their investigation.

* * *

Back in London, Theseus was preparing to leave for France, having been shortlisted as one of the few representatives to escort a few French criminals and to exchange classified information.

Just a few days back, Theseus and his team had done some legwork, tracking a lead which turned out to be just an illegal beast smuggler. The lair was stacked with crates and cages of nifflers, jarveys, ashwinder eggs, and a fwooper. All looking sickly and stank of waste and death.

 _Newt would have loved to be there, if only to fight the aurors and hide all the creatures in his case, just to nurse them all back to health._ Theseus mused.

 

Travers’s team on the other hand, made 5 arrests after following a lead to a hideout. 3 of the arrested followers - ‘acolytes’ they had referred to themselves as - were French citizens. What a mess of paperwork to file.

Well, Theseus didn’t mind being part of the escort party. Heading to another Ministry on official business was always an exciting experience. He loved the French building architecture. Besides, heading to France also meant being on the same turf as a particular female.

The urge to clear the air was never greater.

Theseus had come to the conclusion that for some reason, he did **like** the lady, and sought to make things better. If at the end of the day, this woman still treated him like the last meeting…

Well then, at least he had one less thing to be concerned about.

He hoped things would not come to that.

* * *

Leta gathered the documents together and capped her ink bottle. Today was a nightmare, and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. The recent rise of illegal magical activity meant that the courts were busy with trials day in and day out. What better way to prove her worth and paycheck, then be assigned trial after trial to take down the statements? Some cases were clear-cut and did not take more than 3 hours tops. Others though… Half a day would be gone with the defendants throwing out everything they can to not be served their due justice.

Her next trial would begin shortly, and Leta rushed off for a quick break before settling in the next chamber for the case to be heard. Apparently, there were 3 french wizards caught in London for burning down half a muggle village?

Such stupidity. Unnecessary attention called to themselves.

She wished one of the perpetrators was Nott. Him behind bars for doing something stupid, which sounded like what he would do anyway, would give her a much needed reprieve from his hounding.

 _Demanding her to marry him just because she owed him a pretty face?_ She scoffed. Merlin above, if anything, the jarvey-induced scars made his face look less unsightly.

_Damn the purebloods for wanting to preserve their purity and statuses._

\----------

Wizards and witches from the Ministries slowly filtered into the chamber. Theseus sat at the back, his escorting duties completed.

This case was not his, so he was allowed to watch the proceedings from the public viewing area. He observed his surroundings, intrigued by the place.

The Wizengamot dungeons that he had been in so far, were the ones with a smaller interior, where everyone was clustered in a circle around the defendant in the middle. Here, this French chamber was longer, with those involved in the front and the others at the back.

Interesting concept.

It was a little dark at where he was, with the lighted areas in the front.

Well, hopefully he can sneak in a short nap without Travers seeing. Speaking of Travers, he was at the front, head held high. The 3 French acolytes were bound and stood inside the defendant’s box. Theseus sensed a few powerful binding charms around the box. _Wouldn’t want to be them when it does activate, they better be good._

 

Finally, the nine-person jury appeared. Theseus’s jaw dropped when he eyed the last person that followed behind them.

 

Trailing behind the line of nine, was a younger looking - not to mention, very nicely dressed - witch carrying a stack of parchment and small case. The same witch that he had pictured almost every day, with that angry look and outburst. Said witch, looking a little exhausted, now settled at a space dear the presiding judges.

_Oh so she’s a stenographer now._

He saw Leta looking around the court, and sat a little straighter. She didn’t seem to notice him though.

_Even if she did, what are you going to do? Smile? Make her flustered and distract her work? Wait why would she even be flustered? Dear Mind of mine, stop thinking too much._

 

The session began, and Theseus’s attention drifted towards Leta. She looked like she needed some good English tea to relax and catch up on sleep. Or maybe coffee to keep her awake? Like those coffee addicts in his department.

\----------

Leta frowned as her spelled quill got to work. She couldn’t shake off this feeling of someone watching her.

She sighed.

What was she saying, there was a whole audience in front of her, all looking at her general direction!

Still…

She shook it off, and focused on her task. The sooner this gets done, the faster she goes for lunch break.

\----------

The session went on, and Leta's job was to ensure that the charm on the quill did not wear off, and that the quill dipped itself into the ink pot periodically. Ink blots stained the table every now and then as the quill levitated from pot back to parchment. A little bit of ink flew out and stained her hands when the quill dipped itself. It went unnoticed.

 

Travers was done reporting, and it was now the defendants’ turn. Theseus covered his mouth as he yawned. He never was one for sitting through proceedings, no matter how important he knew they were.

He glanced around, noting how others also shared his boredom. Refocusing to the front, his eyes rested on Leta.

He squinted.

 

 _Was that.. Wait a minute._ He recalled seeing a beauty mark on Leta. _It was_ -Leta raised her head to stretch her neck- _there! At her chin._

 

 _So…_ Theseus narrowed his eyes, and pondered about that strange black spot at her cheek. At that moment, as if she knew that he was staring at the spot, Leta raised her hand to scratch her cheek. Theseus grinned widely.

_That was no beauty mark._

 

He rummaged through his coat, looking for a spare piece of paper he knew he had stuffed in his pockets. _Ohseriouslydamnthisextendablecharmhecaste- ah hah!_

Theseus pulled out a receipt from a muggle bakery he had stopped by earlier in the morning, and took out a pen hiding in his shirt pocket.

He scribbled on the paper, and folded it into an origami frog. Closing and opening his palm, the now-charmed frog hopped off his hand and towards its intended recipient. Theseus sat back and trained his eyes on her, awaiting her reaction.

His money was on her swatting the frog away first.

\----------

Leta reached down on instinct and swatted away this pesky thing that was hopping around her leg. Whatever was bothering her legs decided to stop, much to her relief. She read what the quill spelt out, mentally noting certain words that need correcting.

A nudge.

 ** _That's it._** Suppressing her urge to blast whatever it was, Leta looked down.

 

An off-white coloured frog was hopping around her legs. With the precision of a skilled huntress, Leta swiftly grabbed the frog in one motion, which suddenly stilled in her grip.

_Oh damn it. Did she kill it? Wait, was this even a frog?!_

She placed whatever it was on the table. The frog unfolded into a piece of paper with words on it.

 

_'Is that a new look you're wearing?_

_Quite a battle scar, looks good on you._

_-TS'_

 

 _TS?_ Leta stared confused at the paper, and glanced around the chamber again. This time, she spotted recognizable tousled hair. A familiar face, who smiled at her and prodded his own cheek at her.

_What was the owner of the initials ' **TS'** doing here?_

Leta cocked her head sideways, confused at his actions. _What's with the cheek poking?_ Quill-supervising momentarily forgotten, Leta raised her own finger, imitating his movement and pointing to her own cheek, eyes never leaving his.

She noted his nod of approval, and groaned inwardly when she removed her fingers and stared at a smudge of black ink on the tip. _How many others have seen this on her face? How embarrassing!_

This wasn't how she was expecting to look like when she saw him (not that she was looking forward to it, not at all).

 

Leta slipped out her wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell. Looking up at him again, she noticed his thumbs up.

Resisting a sigh but nonetheless grateful to him, she gave him a slight smile and quickly busied herself with spell-checking the quill's recordings.

 

Well, this was a little awkward.

* * *

The court session was adjourned and Leta packed her stack of documents. Looking towards the public seating area again, she realized that it had already been emptied out. Berating herself for even hoping that he would stay, Leta walked out of the chambers. Really, even she was confused with her own behaviour.

_What is this need to see that silly handsome face of his?_

It felt so irrational, she just thought about his face being handsome. _Athene above, what was happening to her._ She never bothered about men in general, unless they dared challenge her.

This was uncharted territory.

 

So deep in her thoughts she was, that Leta did not notice her path blocked by a tall person. A deep sounding "Woah hey there!" brought her back into reality and by sheer instincts, Leta immediately halted in her steps. Which was a lucky thing, if she had walked right into this person, all her documents and ink would have one hell of a party on the ground. Who in their right mind would even stand in her wa-

“Hello Miss Lestrange.”

_Oh, **him**. Just great. How did thinking about him summoned him again? Is this man a natural legilimens?_

“Mr Scamander. My apologies, I was not expecting you here.”

Theseus had a polite smile plastered on his face. She didn’t, as expected. Not that it made her any less beautif- _Ok stop there Thee, get a grip._

“I noticed you were held back by the President Judge? I didn’t know you were part of the jury.”

Leta shifted, feeling a little awkward. “The Judge-In-Charge. President of the Court. You noticed well. There were some matters to clarify, and no I’m not.” She hugged the documents a little tighter.

“Mr Scaman-”

“Miss Lest-”

They both started and stopped, both seeming to look at each other and anywhere but each other.

 

“Apologies Mr Scamander, please. You were saying?” Well, so much for wondering how she was going to make up to him. Less than five minutes and she already had to apologize to him twice!  
  
“No, I should be sorry. I feel I was the one who cut you midway. Do continue?” Theseus pressed his lips together, the tension between them was starting to get to him, if the sensation he felt in his hands were anything to go by. And from the looks of it, it seemed like the lady in front of him was feeling the same?

This, he did not expect from a woman who always seemed so confident.

“Oh.. Y-yes, if you insist.” Leta tapped her fingers on her forearms, disliking this moment even more. She knew she should take the lead and explain what happened that day. However the words seem to be a mess in her head.

 _Where should she start from?_ Maybe she should have considered a gift after all, since when did she care about people (him, really) being offended at her gestures?

 

Grimacing a little, Leta steeled herself. It was now or never, her efforts to rehearse for this moment should not be in vain.

“Mr Scamander, I am sorry for my much unsightly behaviour from weeks ago. It was rude of me, and I understand you were only trying to help.”

Leta stared off at the spot behind him, biting her lip. She was not used to this.

Theseus kept his eyes on her the entire time. Sure, he heard her apology, even though it was more of a mumble. However he preferred to judge based on physical actions and expressions, as he had learnt from experience that words can only mean so much. He understood that she meant her apology, as awfully scripted as it sounded. Somehow, part of him did not want Leta to be in any more discomfort, and he decided a change of pace was needed.

But first, a reply.

 

“I accept your apology, Miss Lestrange. I too, regret for barging into the conversation between yourself and that rather impolite man. I did not mean for you to feel like a damsel that needed saving. Believe me when I say that I’ve seen men who needed saving from women, and that women can hold their own in whatever circumstances they are in.”

Leta listened to him, and regretted her outburst even more. At least here was a man that seemed to place women at an equal level as men. She nodded. “That comment was also unnecessary. I know you wouldn’t treat women like that. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Theseus pondered. There was that.

“You could. Who is that Nott person that nearly made me drop my scones?”

“You want to know about him? Why?”

“He was the cause for your distress, was he not? He did tell me to ‘piss off’ despite being in my department. How about it? You can make it up to me by sharing what you can about this guy.”

 

Leta considered his request. Well, it would not hurt to tell him about Nott. In a way, he should know, since this was related to the jarvey incident back in Hogwarts.

_Newt. Did Newt tell him about Nott?_

 

But this was not the place for it, and there was yet another half day of work left to go.

“Fair enough. Well there’s a bar frequented by us. We could talk there? It’s just several streets away.” She bit her lip, did she even want to?

“But you wouldn’t know where. I could...show you the way?” Yes, she just had to go ahead and offer.

She sure was making some rather out-of-character choices recently.

Theseus’s eyes lighted up – much to inner Leta’s joy and relief – and he made to say something, before pausing. She raised her eyebrow. He grinned cheekily at her, and she knew he was going to say something silly.

“Are you asking me out? As in, a date?” His eyes twinkled, and Leta had to resist the urge to smack his head.

Instead, she settled for a “Don’t read too much into it, Mr Scamander.”, and walked off towards the elevator to head to her office.

* * *

Later that evening, Leta met Theseus outside of the Ministry, and she apparated them to the bar. Over shots of whiskey, she told him about Nott, and how he was connected to both Newt and herself. Memories of bullying incidents resurfaced, and she surprised even herself when as she shared the reason why she had set the jarvey on him.

Leta held up her end of the agreement, and explained that Nott had been bothering her, to get back at her.

However she left out details of his latest demands.

There was no need for Theseus to know, and no reason to share and involve him. He was just a new acquaintance, and she secretly wished they would stay on talking terms.

She did like his company, strange as it is for her.

She never sought for a man’s attention. She never sought for any attention actually, having associated it with negativity.

But Theseus was nice. His presence did not set her on edge, compared to the many other social occasions where she had to force a smile on her face.

Speaking of him, the man was quiet now and she used the silence to think about her own uncharacteristic behaviours of the day.

 

On the other side of the table, Theseus reacted as expected. He was very much irritated that his brother’s bully managed to weasel out of trouble so many times. The more he heard, the more he understood why the jarvey was set loose.

No, he did not condone the choice of action, but he now knew why Newt was insistent that Leta is a good person.

Said woman had set the jarvey on a boy who constantly hounded them, bullied them, and was driven to extreme measures to fight back because the professors would rather trust in a highly regarded family than a troubled girl and creature-loving boy. It happened because Leta had had enough of Nott treating Newt like dirt.

She did it for his brother.

 

He glanced at their empty shot glasses and stole a quick look at his pocket watch. It was late, and Theseus had some letters to write and send, on top of processing the information from Leta and crosschecking with what Newt had told him years ago.

Newt was right. There was goodness in Leta’s heart, even if her actions taken appeared to be the opposite.

They paid their tabs and left, with Leta declining Theseus’s offer to see her home. They both exchange greetings and an unspoken promise to see each other again, and disapparated off to their respective abodes.

 

There was much reflecting for both of them to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have zero knowledge on how the court works in general, much less a specific country like France. What information I have are based on Google searches. So the judges and jury are inferred from what is known as the 'Cour d'Assises'. Courtroom description is a very brief take on Google images. (Yes I rely heavily on Google)
> 
> Another point, I realized that there are a handful of references to names related to the Greek mythology. So I replaced Merlin with Athene (another name for Athena, Goddess of Wisdom).


	9. Newfound friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll like to be your friend.”  
> “I think we could be friends.”
> 
>  
> 
> Note: There are implied adult words/scenes here, but nothing very descriptive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Apologies for the wait, I thank you for your kind patience.  
> Honestly, I think I had a bit of writer's block, plus dialogue isn't something that I'm that good at.  
> So this chapter took me some time to draft.

_Dear Theseus,_

_Your mother and I are very much pleased to have receive a letter from you. It felt quite strange though, for it has been so long since you had to send one, now you're working in a nice office more often now._

_Speaking of which, it boggles my mind, you being sent to Paris. You're high up in the ranks enough to live comfortably and do the necessary from your desk, do leave these mere escort job for the lower ranking Aurors._

_As for the other matter in your letter, I believed I had made it clear. We will not be speaking about it again._

_I wish you well, and have a safe journey back._

_Sincerely,_

_Father_

 

Theseus winced at his father’s reply. He had wrote home to update his parents about his work trip, and of course, added his comments about the whole Jarvey fiasco. Newt had been right, and Theseus felt their father needed to accept it. His brother had avoided contact with the family as much as possible ever since that incident, and the years since between did nothing to melt the frost between father and younger son.

Not even when Newt participated in the war.

Theseus had hoped his sharing would help, but it seemed like he had a long way more to go.

 

Two days had passed since the drink he had with Leta. The days flew by fast, which was unsurprising when there were meetings to be present for, all centered upon Grindelwald and his movements, and tracking down the identities of the acolytes in his inner circle. He’d be leaving Paris the next day, and he debated over spending the night out seeing the sights or holed up in his room.

 

He glanced at the other letter in his hand, signed by his brother. Yes, he should definitely do something that tested his luck. Newt’s letter was a rarity, and to receive correspondences from his family members on the same day? He’s been blessed by Merlin.

Slouching in his temporary work cubicle chair - The Bureau des Aurors seats were indeed very comfortable - he opened Newt’s letter and scanned the contents.

 

_Dear Theseus,_

_Thank you for writing. No, I’ve yet to fall into a deep pool of dragon dung and mind you I won’t be falling into any potholes of beast excrements.They’re actually very particular about cleanliness, and their businesses are done and covered up. You can spot a covered up pile if you look very keenly on the patterns in the earth. Plus, a freshly covered mound definitely has obvious discoloration from the rest of the ground, plus the claw marks should set off alarm bells and prevent any mishaps. In fact, I’ve found that the muggle variant of the kneazle, they call it a domestic cat I think, is highly similar to the magical beasts. Some humans ought to learn from them, and take more care in their personal hygiene._

(Theseus rolled his eyes. Yes, trust his brother to give him facts when all he did was crack a joke. Seriously, Newt? Who even observes the ground like that?)

_Yes. Leta has a good heart, and I really appreciate you writing to me to validate what I said before. You finally saw it (or heard?) to believe it. Thank you for telling me, and remembering my words. It means a lot to me._

_You say she is working with the Ministry? I wish her well, in her work. In her health. She’s not terribly mad that I didn’t respond to her letters, is she?_

(Theseus sighed. Yes, crack a joke about beasts and he gets a full paragraph. Tell him about his old friend, and what’s this? Two lines specifically for her?)

_I will be back at work soon. Send my regards to Mother when you see her._

_Best Regards,_

_Newt_

 

That wasn’t **too** bad, Theseus thought. So his brother really didn’t reply to any of the letters received. Back then, Theseus had his suspicions but did not confront Newt about it as it was hardly his business. However after that drinking session, he did know that Leta _was_ a wee bit upset that Newt hadn’t replied at all, but had accepted that it was an eventual outcome. She also had a wistful look on her face, when she asked him if Newt was doing well.

 

Merlin, perhaps he could consider taking up a counsellor role at St Mungo’s should he retire early from being an Auror.

 

Theseus glanced out of a magically-charmed window. The darkening orange-pink glow in the sky suggested it was late evening. Which also means that a certain lady would be off-work soon. He considered for a brief moment then, reasoning that he was technically acting out of responsibility to Newt and not that he had wanted to see Leta again, sent a patronus to Leta.

After getting some tea from the common area in the Bureau, Theseus came back to a desk overflowing with hopping paper frogs. He guffawed at the sight, and looked on in amusement as the frogs arranged themselves into a circle, with one smaller magicked frog unfolding itself to reveal a message.

 

“A note would have sufficed. 7pm at the Wallace Fountain. Enjoy the frogs. -L”

 

A quick check of time showed that he had another fifteen minutes. For some reason the charm on the paper frogs did not stop even after the message had been delivered, so Theseus spent his time making the animated papers do all sorts of acrobatic tricks with his wand as the time ticked away.

* * *

“You’re late, Mr Scamander.”

“Apologies Miss Lestrange, I had an incident with some magical amphibians in the office. Took some time to gather them up for a nice counterspell blast.”

“An auror having trouble with frogs? Now that’s a first.”

“Just one of those days.”

 

Leta smirked at Theseus as she took in his appearance. While she was looking as classy as always despite a long day at work, Theseus’s hair was sticking out at angles, his shirt crumpled and blazer unbuttoned. A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple.

 

“A little bit of exercise never hurt anybody.”

“Your wand work is impeccable.”

“Of course, it’s a Lestrange family trademark after all.”

 

Theseus shook his head, chuckling to himself. Leta, on the other hand, gave a slight smile. She took hold of the cuff of his shirt and disapparated to the town square.

* * *

A house-elf served up Theseus’s and Leta’s drinks, before disappearing with a crack. Theseus took his glass of firewhisky, holding it up in front of Leta.

“A toast to good health. Oh, and may your restrictions be lifted soon!”

Leta mirrored his actions, clinking her glass against his. “And may you have better luck fending off magical paper.”

They sipped to complete the formality, and proceeded to share about their work - Leta listening more than she spoke. Soon they eased into comfortable silence, much like that night.

 

“I wrote a letter to Newt.”

Leta hummed, knowing there was more to come.

“I told him what you told me about the Jarvey fiasco, and that he was right about saying you have  goodness in your heart.”

 

Leta startled at the statement, thanking the heavens she wasn’t sipping her drink. Choking on alcohol was not the most pleasant experience.

Choosing to not notice her reaction, Theseus continued. “He says he’s doing fine, and gave me a paragraph-worth of beast knowledge. Isn’t that typical of him?”

She smiled, that was Newt alright. His fascination with magical creatures was what originally drew her to him in school. How he was able to find a channel for his sadness and loneliness, in those cold castle walls. How he went through each day, smiling, despite his own house mates treating him as an outsider. She admired that resilience, for she had none.

 

“Newt didn’t reply to your letters.”

That got her full attention. Leta shook her head, and took a gulp of her drink.

“He had every right not to. I don’t do well with apologies, as you can tell. I might have screwed up my apology letters.”

“He asks if you were terribly upset. Sent his regards to you too.”

 

“I was not. Disappointed yes, but not terribly so. Send my regards to him please, for it seems unlikely that my path and his would cross ever again.” That wistful expression on his companion’s face, as she rubbed a finger over the rim of her glass, called out to him. Theseus wanted to do something, to give her one of his famed hugs, to hold her and assure her that his younger brother did not dislike her, despite the lack of reply.

He slid his hand across so that their tips of fingers touched. He would blame it on the alcohol if Leta reacted negatively towards the contact.

 

“That day when he was suspended, Newt insisted that you were unlike the other Lestranges, infamously known. That you, and I quote him, ‘isn’t one of them. She has goodness in her heart, I know it.’ He even dared to argue with Father about it.”

Leta swallowed the lump that mysteriously appeared in her throat. “That is too kind of him. But Newt has always seen the kind side in everyone, despite his suffering in their hands. I don’t consider myself good, what happened with the Jarvey is enough to prove it.” Leta looked into Theseus’s eyes. “I don’t regret my actions. I only regret doing nothing when Newt took the blame.”

Theseus frowned. “You never did share why you did nothing.”

“Hmm…” Leta’s eyes were fixed on Theseus, or perhaps looking past him. As if seeing something he couldn’t see. _Was she was recalling the past?_

 

_Beatings. Pain. Threats of arranged marriages to affluent sons from other families._

_Threats of disownment._

_Spending days locked up, isolated, kicked out, starving._

_Taunts about being lesser, for her skin colour._

_About her mother being a whore, making her a whore by association. Being touched inappropriately when on school break and not having anyone believe her. “Who’d want to side with you?”_

_Suspension meant being at home. Being at home meant pain. She couldn’t._

 

A warm hand encased hers, shaking her hand, and Leta found herself coming back to the present. She was vaguely aware of her quick and shallow breathing, and a strange but not undesirable physical contact.

“Miss Lestrange?” Earnest blue eyes looked at her with concern, and a hand slid a newly refilled glass of firewhisky towards her. “Are you alright? There is no need to tell me anything. You can just tell me to shove my British arse somewhere else.”

_I must be mistaken, is he being concerned for me? But nobody has looked at me that way since Newt. Why would anyone want to be worried for me?_

“Excuse me.” She took in a deep breath, and drank the entire contents in one gulp. “You’re right, Mr Scamander. You should take your British arse back whence you came.”

Theseus smiled. “I’d never thought a word like ‘whence’ would be said by you. This is a surprise.”

“I’m just full of surprises aren’t I?” Leta remarked dryly. “Tell me, did they make you an auror because you asked too many questions?”

“Gracious me, no! They picked me because of my charming youthful looks. You know, to mesmerize the truth out of suspects.” He grinned. “The secondary reason was probably the questioning part.”

“Bless that poor instructor who had the misfortune to interview and guide you.”

“Well, I don’t quite care about the one who interviewed, but one instructor who briefly taught me the ropes was called Graves. There was an exchange programme for senior aurors, and he was from MACUSA. Pretty good guy.”

“Figures they’d rather have an American teach you, one that is immune to your allure.”

“Oh yeah, it is such a shame that my enchanting looks seem to have no effect on foreigners.” Theseus winked at her.

 

_Did he just?! Oh he did not._

“Really? Contrary to that, I’d say my charm on foreigners work just fine. As usual.” Leta made a show of blinking seductively at him, going as far as to bite her lower lip.

 

Theseus gulped. Now that, was not what he expected. Sure, he knew she would retaliate somehow. But that?

He laughed nervously, instinctively tugging at his shirt collar. _Whew, it certainly has gotten hot around here._ He unbuttoned the first top buttons of his shirt, trying to regain his composure. This was bad. He was the celebrated war hero, and should have already gotten used to having females fawn over him, trying to get his attention using whatever ways possible.

So why was his face acting like his crush just acknowledged his presence?

 

“Well now, looks like you have me beat. Before long some foreign guy might just swoop in and carry you off on a thestral!”

“They’d have to find one wild one first, or kidnap one from the Ministry or Hogwarts. You should take caution too, lest a fine English lady commands a Welsh Green and plucks you away from your comfortable office.”

They both laughed, specks of tears forming at the sides of their eyes.

“I’d kill to see the look on Newt’s face if he ever learns about this conversation of thestrals and dragons. My brother would either be elated or mortified. Now that’ll be a sight.”

Their laughter wore off, and both took the time to recover from the funny moment they shared.

 

In the silence that followed, Leta's mind finally went into overdrive, thinking about her interactions with this man.

Leta wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol finally speaking, or her mental faculties being zapped after all the laughter, but she somehow summoned the courage to ask Theseus a question that had been bothering her after they first met. She crossed her arms, and levelled her stare at him.

 

“I feel like I should be avoiding you, Mr Scamander, after doing something terrible that expelled Newt and brought shame to your family name. Run for the hills, as they say. But I feel like I enjoyed whatever time spent with you instead. It’s like as if, you and I… Like as if we were friends reconnecting? It confuses and frustrates me. Are we friends, Mr Scamander? Or are you just keeping an eye on me?”

 

_Are you only talking to me to keep tabs on me? Will you even want to be friends with me?_

 

Theseus listened, and nodded his head. He knew what she was trying to say. He totally understood, and was surprised to know that she felt the same way.

Now all he had to do was reply to her question in a way that wouldn’t have her creeped out further.

 

“I didn’t like you, Miss Lestrange." Theseus blurted out. _Ah yes, answer with honesty. It'd be a miracle if she didn't up and disappear this instant._

"I had already heard enough negative things about the Lestranges in general, and it didn’t take me long to resent you for what you put my brother through.” He held a hand out, stopping her as soon as he saw her open her mouth. “No, hear me out. I didn’t like you. Then I forgot about the incident. Life happened, many things happened. A war happened.”

Theseus frowned, staring at a stain on the table. Some memories were best left unspoken of.

“I started appreciating people. Before the war, there were people whom I thought were downright jerks who seized the chance to kill. There was a Carrow. A Black. Both from families well known for dabbling in the Dark Arts. But they saved people instead, despite their family names.”

He sighed. “I had learnt a lesson when I was younger, taught to me by someone younger, but only fully understood the meaning when I was older. Family names aren’t everything, aren’t a deciding factor of a person’s character. Which, brings me to you.”

 

Leta listened intently, pouring them refills. She had a feeling they’d both need it very soon.

 

“You were the same girl I’d saw at Hogwarts, yet there was something different about you. It showed in your eyes. Our conversations thus far? Us Brits don’t just casually banter with people we hardly know, or used to resent. Yet it all seems right with you. A tease, a joke, some sarcasm. And now we have some seriousness.” Theseus smiled, fanning his hand out to indicate this moment they were having.

“I’m frustrated too. For days I thought about how I should apologize to you for butting into your argument with Nott. How I should weasel out an off-day or two, travel to your family home, ram down the door and explain to you. It’s strange, a never-felt before feeling. Like I was on the verge of losing a dear old friend forever. I don’t hate you, I don’t dislike you. I agree that you’re a good person with a strong sense of loyalty. And maybe even justice.”

 

_Now he says I’m loyal. Sense of justice? No one.. Ever.. Which part of me?  
_

 

Embarrassed by his confession of sorts, Theseus felt like Newt, averting his eyes to the ground - and missing her astonished expression - and his hands, and then mumbling out his thanks to Leta for refilling his glass, and drank a mouthful of it. All this explaining made his lips dry and throat parched, but his mind a lot lighter. A little less hazy.

 

It was worth it.

 

“So yeah, I mean.. I guess what I wanted to say was, I think I understand how you feel? I’d like to think of us as friends, or at least acquaintances that could become friends? I’m not keeping my eye on you anymore.”

 

_Actually I think I can’t take my eyes off you._

 

Theseus met her gaze, and once again, was deeply intrigued by her dark eyes. Leta, on the other hand, was paying attention to his blue irises for the first time.

_So different from Newt. A darker blue than his brother. Still piercing._

 

A male and female voice spoke up together, at the same timing. Coincidence?

Two tones weaving together perfectly.

“I’ll like to be your friend.”

“I think we could be friends.”

They chuckled at the timing, and clinked glasses to that.

 

They left the pub early, as it was a work day the next day, both disapparating to their own abodes.

* * *

The next day, Leta was there to see the British delegation off, as they readied to travel by Floo. Travers left first, followed by two others.

And then it was Theseus’s turn.

He grabbed a handful of powder, and stepped up to the fireplace. Turning around, he grinned to his new friend.

“Be on your best behaviour, Miss Lestrange. See you soon perhaps? Don’t kill my owl if you see her.”

They had agreed to exchange letters via owls, as what friends would do, just before leaving the pub.

“Leta, Mr Scamander. Newt called me Leta when we were friends, I don’t see why you shouldn’t.”

“In that case, please call me Theseus. Now, about my owl…”

“Oh. She’ll be fine.”

 

Theseus nodded his head in appreciation, turned back to face the fireplace, tossed the powder and then stepped into the hearth.

“Atrium, Ministry of Magic!”

He tucked his elbows securely in, and the last he saw before his vision spun, was Leta giving him a small wave.

 

And her mouthing the words "If she behaves".

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) If I'm not wrong, the French Ministry is underground. Which means they won't be able to see any weather patterns at all. They might charm windows to show the current weather outside. Just an idea.
> 
> 2) I'm not too familiar with the 1900s, but I believe if someone is not seen as 'one of them', they are generally treated less fairly.


	10. Owl Post

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nott finds himself in a spot, and seeks out Leta for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Onto another chapter, this time with a little backstory for Nott. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I realized I misspelt Nott as Notts, with an 's', earlier in the other chapters. This has been rectified.

A wand pointed between his eyes, held by a woman with beautifully manicured nails. “You will find this, you will inscribe these words, and you will be rewarded handsomely.”

She brought the wand down to his chest, letting it rest where his heart was. He could hear his own heartbeats, when had the shop and street outside become so eerily silent?

“Do you understand?”

The shop owner nodded his head quickly, instinctively taking in shallow breaths. Beads of perspiration rolled down from his temple, and he gulped when he felt the wand tip jab into his flesh.

“Y-yes! U-understood!” He squeaked out.

The wand left his body. Looking down and frantically checking himself, he let out a huge sigh of relief when he realized he was physically fine. A slender finger tapped the bottom of his chin and he froze, obeying when the woman raised his head up to meet her eyes.

 

“For the greater good, Mr Mallory Nott. I shall be back.”

Mallory, now shaking with fear, could only stare as the lady in green disappeared from his sight with a crack.

What sort of luck was he born with, to have to meet with such trouble? As if being ridiculed daily by family wasn’t enough, as if the sight of his ruined once-handsome face wasn’t enough to remind him of his humiliation.

 

He cursed out loud, finally having the strength to pull himself onto a stool by his countertop. Not once since he set up this little artifact shop, did he ever imagine that he would have to procure items, on his own. This shop was suppose to only take in old artifacts at a cheap price, or sell whatever people didn’t want, to others. One man’s trash was another man’s treasure after all! He was suppose to be the boss, to sit at a corner and have an easy life.

Definitely not doing legwork.

 

Mallory summoned his stash of alcohol, and took a swig of whisky. Where on earth could he find a skull of a female Romani descendant? How was a skull even an artifact? Cursed kettles! Magic carpets! Cauldrons that never stopped brewing poisons! _These_ were artifacts.

He cursed himself again. He never should have let the woman’s beauty captivate him, blind him into agreeing to her proposal.

No, this was not his fault.

It was that Leta’s fault. She refused to be with him, and it made him susceptible to the wiles of other women! Leta Lestrange, she’ll have to atone for all the problems in his life. If only the stupid Jarvey never attacked him, he would still have his face and pride, and probably married one of the more worthy pure-blooded witches, ready for a lifetime of prestige.

 

Leta.. Leta leta leta… That exotic brown skin, that fiery look in her eyes with a personality to match. Oh how she played hard to get.

Nott loved a good game. Maybe he would find that skull, gain the graces of whoever the lady in green was working for, and then with the payment, he would make Leta his wife. A union between the Notts and Lestranges wasn’t too bad a deal either. After all, who else would possibly even consider that defect, wife material?

No, only him. He would be her saviour!

 _Yes. That’s what I’ll do,_ he thought.

_Maybe this job wasn’t that bad after all._

_But first, I’ll need to know what the hell are Romani._

* * *

Leta stared at the brown envelope on her work desk.

 

***Flashback***

_“Would you prefer to have letters sent to the Ministry or directly to your home? Do you actually still live in the Lestrange mansion?”_

_“Ministry, and unfortunately… Yes I have to live there. All the better to monitor me with. Why do you ask?”_

_“Ministry it is! As for your question, well… I’ve decided that I shall start planning an elaborate April Fool’s prank on you.”_

_“April what? Mr Scamander, if you have a glamour charm on please remove it. I would like to know if I’m currently legally drinking with an adult, or with an underaged child who needs to be sent back to his mother.”_

_“My my Miss Lestrange, can’t you tell just by looking at my boyish features?”_

_“Well that’s a shame, clearly the alcohol must affecting you.”_

 

_They sat in silence after that, finishing up their drinks._

_“Letters.” He mumbled._

_“Excuse me?”_

_Theseus cleared his throat. “Let’s write to each other. It’s a thing I’ve seen people do.”_

_Leta looked at him skeptically. “You want to write to me? Isn’t that what lovers do in those muggle movies?”_

_He shrugged. “Muggles have their own ways, I’ve seen some of my colleagues send letters too. It’s just writing down a speech, and I like talking to you. Would be sad to not correspond, did you know I can charm ink to dance?”_

_“Well then Mr Scamander, seeing is believing.” She smiled at him._

_“Well then Miss Lestrange, believe and you will see.” He returned her smile with his own._

 

It had been a week since bidding farewell to Theseus, and this package on her table was proof that he actually meant what he said.

He wrote to me.

In all her six years since graduating Hogwarts, nobody had ever corresponded to her. Seven, if she included that incident that led her first real friend to be expelled.

Newt had always written to her, whether they were at school or away for the holidays.

She mused, was it her destiny to be tied to the Scamanders in some way?

 

An hour ago, a tired looking owl with feathers sticking out landed on her (more like knocked into her shoulder and tumbled onto her lap), Leta had very nearly screamed in shock. Shock turned into concern when the fluff of feathers shivered on her lap instead of righting itself. She untied the envelope from its feet and brought the owl to the Owlery for treatment, still confused over whose family it belonged to.

It was only after she settled everything and went back at her desk, did she notice the Scamander Emblem on the paper.

Her fingers twitched with excitement and apprehension. She was eager to know what her new friend had written, if Theseus made ink blots danced. But what if the letter wasn't about happy things?

What if the content was about how they shouldn't contact at all, because of family statuses?

It had happened before, it could happen again.

 

Yet… Leta had to admit that it made her feel giddily happy. Their conversations felt comfortable, even though it was just the fourth time of speaking with each other. She gave him shots of sarcasm, and he went along with it. She shared a part of her school life, and he didn't bat an eyelid at mentions of her worst behaviour.

She told him about Nott, expecting Theseus to agree that she deserved the harassment. He had taken her side, completely aghast at how petty that man can be.

 

There had been no need for pretenses.

***End Flashback***

 

Leta stared at the brown envelope on her work desk.

Between her work piling up and the letter, temptation to read something more heartening won out. Tapping on the sealed flap with her wand, Leta undid the seal and took out the folded paper.

 

_Dear Leta,_

_I hope Helga got to you safely. She's not quite used to flying to Paris, or any long-distance places outside of England. But she seemed excited, so I sent her on her way._

_Please tell me you have her? Don’t eat her, I like her._

_I know you’re still raising your eyebrow at my choice of names for her, but it was either Olga or Helga, and this sweet owl picked well._

_How is your work coming along? It’s amazing how you have yet to burn half the paperwork on your desk._

_Didn’t quite peg you as a desk-bound worker with the patience of a saint to handle all that flammable material._

_I’m not sure what else to write for now. This is my first letter in a very long while (that isn’t to family)._

_Hear from you soon?_

 

_Sincerely,_

_Theseus_

 

“LESTRANGE!”

Leta jumped. The sharp voice of the Head of Administration cut through the silence in the department. She got to her feet and walked fast to the Head Administrator’s room.

From experience, it was better to reach within thirty seconds of being summoned, for the safety of everyone’s ears.

 

Stopping in front of the office, the door swung open and Leta entered, taking in the look of an irritated lady behind her desk and one other person which made her cheerful mood vanished instantly.

 

**Mallory.**

 

“Lestrange! This man here claiming to be your fiance is demanding for you to stop hiding from him. May I remind you that this is an office, and we do not allow PERSONAL PROBLEMS to interfere with out work? Last warning! Before I report you to the Lestranges! Now get the hell out of my office!”

 

Leta blinked as she processed the information and soon found herself being led out of the department by the root of her problems.

She kept her facial expression neutral as they walked past her colleagues, inwardly fuming from anger and embarrassment.

Once she cleared the cubicles of curious French employees, Leta wrenched her arm from Mallory’s grip and instead, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into an empty meeting room a few corridors away.

 

Leta pushed him in, not bothering to care if he tripped over a Matagot doing its rounds.

An angry noise emitted from the spirit familiar, and it curled up at the corner of the room, blue opaque eyes fixated on them.

Seething in anger, she reached out for his hand, grabbed his thumb and twisted it backwards.

Hard.

 

The shock from the tripping, coupled with the sudden movement, made the pain Mallory felt ten times worse.

 

“That, was for lying. I would rather die than have a fiance like you.” , she hissed, letting go when the man gave a yelp. With the matagot watching, she could not afford to have security come by. The Head Admistrator had already threatened to report her behaviour to the family. If she continued to be seen in a negative light, she would never be able to taste freedom again.

Leta settled for resting her hand near her wand. “What are you doing here?”

The dirty-blond haired man gave a shrug. “Need your help, best way to seek you out.”

“Need my help?! After all that ruckus you caused, everything you did, you need **my** help? Be glad I didn’t hex you. Now find your way out, and don’t appear in front of me again.”

 

Leta turned to leave, but the door slammed shut. She tried to turn the knob but nothing. Blasting the door open was a temptation, but that would bring unnecessary attention to her again. _Ugh._ She was definitely going to burst a vein today.

 

“What now.”, she spat out.

Mallory leaned against a table. “I need help. You can atone for your actions by helping me.”

 

Leta resisted rolling her eyes. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at him. “I have not forgotten what you pulled weeks back at the British Ministry and my family home."

"Neither have I forgotten what you did to me." He gestured to his scars.

"Oh please, stop being so petty. Back then I’ve already apologized, even though I was not the one who scratched your pretty face. For the ruckus you made, please look up the rest of the Lestranges. Now, while I’m being polite, undo the spell.”

 

“You deserved it, you ungrateful witch. You should be glad that someone like me, is offering to take you off the singles market. And there you are, rejecting me without giving much thought about your family status.”

“Keep talking, and you might see yourself plastered against the wall. At least I have the skills to match, unlike someone. How did you even fail your N.E.W.T.s again?”

 

Mallory gnashed his teeth in frustration. “Shut up woman.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Look, fine. If you help me, I’ll stay out of your way.”

An eyebrow raised. “Oh? Forever?”

“For as long as I feel like. With your attractive body, won't be too long. Besides... I heard tell that someone was seen fraternizing with that _war hero_. What’s his name? Thellus? Thesaurus? That stupid looking guy that looked like a pushover when I knocked him aside at the Ministry.”

“Laughable, here I thought that with your eyes and brains intact, you would actually remember a name associated with prestige.”

Leta ignored his jab at her. She was not an item to be possessed, and she would not give him the pleasure of reacting to his personal comments.

He snarled, instinctively flexing his fingers but unwilling to be caught on the wrong side of the French laws, not with the matagot looking.

 

“Look, just give me five minutes.” Mallory whispered forcefully. “I’ll be out of your hair after that.”

“Bold of you to want my precious time for free.”

“Not bothering you, is a worthy price.”

 

Leta’s glowered at him for a while more, contemplating about his offer.

The bastard knew she had been talking to Theseus. This was not the best piece of news ever. Who knew what he could do with such information?

 

“Five minutes and never bother me again. Time is ticking.”

The man gave her a sneering smile, to which she responded with a dramatic gag. “What are Romani?”

“What are _what?_ ”

“Romani.”

“Romans I know, Romani no.”

Mallory palmed his face in desperation. “Oh come on, you must know! Or have heard about something. You Lestranges deal in Dark Arts too right?”

“Not all, and I’m not quite catching your drift. Less than 4 minutes.”

“Okay, fine. So much for client confidentiality. Yesterday a lady, very pretty with a seductive look, came by. Those plump red lips. Oh, green really suited her, but she wasn’t wearing a dress or skirt. Looked so lo-”

“Three minutes.”

“...lost in my shop.” Mallory swapped his words just in time. “She said she wanted something, a skull. Dark artifacts you know. Said something about Romani. Any idea?”

“No, I don’t but one old man might.”

“Who?”

 

Leta rubbed her temples, she could feel a headache in-coming.

“Coloeus. Father’s favourite little brother. Has an entire shelf of books and notes dedicated to things like that.”

“Can you he-”

“No. You had one chance and you’ve used it. No more helping.” Leta smiled sweetly at him, right hand whipping out her wand and jabbing his chest with practiced move. “Don’t make your problem, my problem. Time’s up. Now find the exit and take your shitty self out.”

“But Leta!”

“It’s ‘Miss Lestrange’ to you. I would be very careful of that lady you described, Nott. Consider this warning my expression of gratefulness to you staying away from me.” With that, Leta reversed the spell on the door and stalked off, anger emanating from her in waves.

* * *

_28th October, 1921_

_Dear Theseus,_

 

_My, this does seem strange. Talking to you by writing on a piece of paper. Feels almost… Primitive._

_I was almost disappointed to see no charmed ink dancing._

_Work is fine, thank you for asking. I did set a pile of papers on fire, if you’d like to know. To be fair, they were outdated documents were meant for incineration._

_I do not eat owl, but I hear that they can be a good source of nourishment, if seasoned properly. I took the liberty of fattening up that feathery bag of bones, perhaps soon I might have a tasty fowl dish for Thanksgiving? I heard it’s a specific day people picked to eat turkey, which is so odd._

_I also wrote the date of which I sent this letter, for I am curious to know how long it takes for the letter to get to your hands. Let me know._

_Nott came by my office the day I received your letter. It was most vexing._

 

_Sincerely,_

_Leta_

 

Theseus tickled the soft spot under Helga’s beak, and chuckled. His owl did look better, and he wondered what sort of food Leta had fed Helga.

Helga hooted, and flew off to her perch. Theseus sighed and observed the mess of documents on his table.

There were reports of acolyte sightings at Diagon and Knockturn, and Theseus had an idea that if he could track their patterns, he would be able to lead a team to raid their hideouts. So far, he had not much information to work on.

 

_If only Leta was here, she would know where to search. Or at least goad me into thinking hard._

 

He noted that part about Nott, and had to suppress his desire to shake that fellow.

_Why would Nott look Leta up again? Was it to pressure her into marrying him? Damn, Leta deserves better. Or maybe it was something else?_

_Why am I even concern about him wanting to marry her?_

“Nott….” Theseus slouched in his seat, and tapped his finger on the table. This man bothered him and he wasn’t sure why.

Skimming through the letter again, Theseus picked up his quill and proceeded to write a reply.

 

Work can wait. Replying was much more fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The name Mallory, means the unfortunate/unlucky one. Considering how the other Nott family member was called Cantankerous... This seems quite fitting. He's one year older than Leta & Newt, which would put him as a 7th year in the 1913 school curriculum when the incident happened.
> 
> 2) Romani are an ethnic group of people also known as 'gypsies'. From what I have gathered, magic (or at least, the art of divination) also makes up a part of their history. This ethnic group are nomads, and have been known to be located in Europe and also, in Brazil.


	11. These feelings in them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, this feels like a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for both of them to act a little awkward around each other. Their feelings for each other have taken root.

“You know, this feels like a date.”

The cafe doors chimed as it opened again and again, signalling to the barista and floor manager the arrival of new customers. 

 

Theseus tried to suppress a sigh for the 6th time since he started lunch. 

There was a new girl, fresh out of Hogwarts, that applied for and got hired as Traver’s personal assistant, overseeing his appointment scheduling. Travers had left word with Theseus to show the girl around, as he was busy with a new case.

Said girl, Arialle, had latched onto Theseus immediately, asking him about his Hogwarts and war experiences. Ooh-ing and ahh-ing while staring at him too intensely for his comfort. 

_Another fangirl._

“This, is just a friendly lunch.” He forced a smile. “Now please, we only have another 30 minutes before we’re required to be back at the office.”

“That’s such a bummer. I’m so glad to be able to spend time in the presence of the esteemed hero!” Arialle gushed.

“Hmm… It’s just a title. Means nothing, really. There are more deserving people out there.” He gulped down his chowder, thinking of an excuse that would get him out of his current situation.

Theseus disliked attention. He always had, but working in the Ministry meant that he had to get used to it. If it was for work, it was still tolerable. But this - the girl in front of him fluttered her lashes - was grinding on his patience.

“Oh Mr Scamander, you’re so modest. I wish all men were like you... I bet you have no lack of attention from the ladies.”

An image of a petite lady with a fiery temper to boot appeared in his head. Theseus stabbed at his clam, wishing for someone to save him from this. Twenty-five minutes more to go. 

 

The cafe doors chimed, welcoming another customer.

 

“That isn’t true. Some men are better than I am. My brother, for one. What he’s doing right now will someday change the world.”

“Your brother? That other Scamander? I heard of him in school. He’s sort of an odd fellow isn’t he?”

“Is he? Or is it you?” A smooth female voice cut in before Theseus could give his reply. Two sets of eyes turned towards a woman standing by their table, dressed in a simple dark green blouse and black pants, dark eyes staring at Arialle, who was now looking affronted. 

“Excuse me? Who are you?” 

_What is Leta doing here? Oh nevermind that. Merlin’s heavenly name. My saviour has appeared!_

“Lestrange, I’m sure you’ve heard of me too.” Turning her head to the Auror, Leta offered a polite smile. “Hello Theseus, fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same to you, Leta. What brings you here?” Theseus didn’t bother suppressing a grin. Scratch that, he smiled broadly at her and mentally thanked all magical beings and the mighty Lady Luck, for she could not have shown her beauty and mercy at a better time.

He quickly formulated a plan to escape. 

“Saw a certain messy-haired individual and thought I should be nice and kind to say hi.” Leta’s eyes flashed towards Arialle, who paled a little, no doubt remembering the name Leta Lestrange and its associated to one Newt Scamander. “Good thing too, it’s nice to know _someone_ has heard of Newt Scamander, after all these years. All good things, I presume?”

The younger woman nodded her head dumbly. 

“C’est bon à entendre. Well then dear Theseus, see you around.” With a slight curtsy, Leta stepped gracefully away and out of the cafe. The male auror’s bewildered eyes following her. 

“Well I’m done here.” Theseus hurriedly got up. “Arialle, I’ll see you at the office.” He left the shop hastily, keen eyes searching for a speck of green and black - _Heh, total slytherin isn’t she?_ \- only to spot her opposite him and moving further away. 

 

_LETA! Ugh if only she was a natural Legilimens, that would give her a headache and make her stop wouldn’t it?_

 

He ran across the street, got honked at by a muggle car while running, got to the pavement safely in one piece and turned a corner, nearly bumped into an old lady but his reflexes were working beautifully so he side-stepped the elder smoothly, and continued running. 

“Leta! LETA, WAIT!”

The witch stopped, turning around only to be greeted by a perspiring mess of a Scamander, now bent forwards clutching his knees in order to get his panting down to a minimum. Leta snorted, thoroughly amused.

“Why Theseus, have you not heard of disapparating?” She dramatically craned her neck to look past him, knowing that his eyes were on her. “Seemed like you could have, once you spotted me walking this straight path.”

“I.. Necker- I mean - nevermind that. Leta! What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on your best behaviour until the Lestrange Elders deemed you Hogwarts Head Girl-worthy and let you out for good?”

“Hoo.. What makes you think I’m _not_ , Head Girl-worthy, as of yesterday?” Leta raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You could have sent me a letter you know… I would have picked you up at wherever you popped up from.” Theseus had finally caught his breath and stood upright, a smile on his face.

“Your owl would have taken three days to make the journey, which probably means you would receive the letter tomorrow. Do you have the heart to make a lady wait in this strange wild territory alone?” She fluttered her eyelashes at the man in front of her, unaware of that effect that was happening to Theseus’s heart. 

 

Theseus had wondered many times what people meant by the ‘fluttering of their hearts’ when they see their beloved.

He had heard that many times during the war, when his comrades spoke about missing home. 

He understood now, the meaning of that phrase. 

_Was it possible to like someone very much after less than a handful of meet ups?_

 

“I would never want a beautiful lady like you to be hopelessly stranded in this society where you’d be prey to the predators.” He grinned cheekily at her offended look. “But seeing as you are blessed with both the raven and the snake in your history, I wonder who the predator really is?” 

Leta mouthed out ‘What’ and sighed. This man would be the death of her one day, how did she even begin to like hi- _Hold that thought Leta Lestrange!_

Distracting herself, the witch pulled out a small pocket watch and glimpsed at it. “Don’t you have to go back to that girl of yours, and work?”

The auror rolled his eyes. “My girl is definitely not her. Besides, I have to thank you for saving me from that fan girl’s interrogation. After all, international cooperation is also a part of an Auror’s job.” He winked, and offered Leta his arm. “Where to, my lady?”

Leta considered briefly, before surrendering to her _want_ and reaching out tentatively for his arm. Was it strange that this action felt more comfortable than awkward? “Ministry of Magic, Department of International Magical Cooperation, Merci Monsieur.”

* * *

Leta stood and nodded her thanks and appreciation to the stand-in Department Head, Mr Logan Bagman, her contract in hand. She held the parchment gently, the ink only just set and dried.

Working with the French Ministry was mildly uncomfortable for Leta, partly because she had never really considered herself as a pure French witch. Being able to apply for work with the Ministry of Magic was a much preferred option for her, it was an opportunity offered to all alumni of Hogwarts. Besides, Britain was where Hogwarts is, and by extension, was home to her. Not France, not Paris - even though she was born in the Lestrange Manor. 

Leta tapped the parchment with her wand, making it impervious to the elements that can stain it. Her first day of work would be in a week, giving her plenty of time to search for suitable housing options. Walking towards the elevators and waiting for one to arrive, she briefly contemplated between heading one level below to where the Beasts Division was, or showing off the contract to a certain Scamander working in the department three levels below where she stood. 

Newt. 

Leta huffed. Theseus mentioned in passing that his brother had been travelling. Her schoolmate had never once replied her letters. She knew she had made a major mistake, had been in the wrong, had tried to apologize. Did he have to make things so difficult? Maybe he would be forced to acknowledge it if she left one directly on his desk. Everyday. Until the entire place was bursting with folded papers. 

The elevator arrived and Leta jabbed at the button inscribed ‘Level Four’. In ten minutes, an annoyed Leta left the Beasts Division. She was appalled at the condition of his office, owl dung and dust having taken up tenancy in the period of the younger Scamander’s absence. The other employees didn’t seem to care for Newt, and had minded their own business after pointing Leta to the general direction of his desk. After scourgifying the place and scribbling a quick note, the petite lady hastily made her exit and headed for Level Two. 

Walking proudly along the corridors without a care, Leta strolled past a meeting room with its doors not properly secured. 

“There have been cases of this group of magicians, Romani they call themselves, disappearing from their homes.”

Leta froze mid step, standing two feet away. _Romani? Why did that sound familiar?_

“They are just pocketfuls of immigrants. Muggles have always persecuted those who are different from them. Disappearing minority is unfortunately part of the race for survival. How is this a cause for concern?”

“The Romani have their own brand of old divination magic. Some say they deal in the dark arts. Yes, muggles have ill-treated them, some still do. But there were always signs pointing towards muggle interference. This time, our scouts report traces of _magic_ , Travers. Dark magic.”

“Maybe it’s their own internal strife.”

“One of the Romani specifically said it the person who attacked them proclaimed that it was for the greater good.”

“...Grindelwald.”

The room went silent, and Leta continued towards her intended destination. She remembered why the word Romani was familiar. Nott had said it, asked her about it. She bit her lip. He was searching for them, commissioned by a lady, and here she overheard the same group of people being targeted by Grindelwald. Coincidence?

 

Leta had heard of Romani before, but from the Non-Magiques newspapers reporting about slavery and abuse. _What is this old divination magic? How different was it from the normal divination tea leaves nonsense in Hogwarts?_ She needed more information, and Theseus would be the best person to share about this group of nomads. 

Making her way towards Theseus’s desk was easy. Trying not to laugh at his predicament was difficult.

Somehow the Auror seemed to be trying hard not to burst a vein or two. That girl from lunch was seated near Theseus. Whatever she was doing definitely had Theseus frustrated, but being the kind gentleman he was, it merely showed as a twitch on his forehead. Leta stood a distance away, making a note of the time it would take for the person she was looking for, to finally detect her presence. Ten seconds in and one impatient Leta strode to the desk, clearing her throat loudly. Once again, two pairs of eyes stared at her - one filled with relief and tears. 

“Leta!”

_Oh ho? Was Theseus tearing up?_

“Hello again, Theseus _dear_. I have a question for you, one of importance.” Directing her gaze towards the girl, Arialle, Leta sniffed exaggeratingly. “If you would be so kind as to give us a few minutes of privacy?” The young girl didn’t move immediately, and Leta sighed. “No? I expected as such. I shall be borrowing this man then.” Hooking her hand under Theseus’s arm, the petite witch hauled the tall Auror to his feet. “Well then Theseus darling, I thought you said I’m your only girl? This is the second time I’ve caught you with another woman so close to you.” Leta pretended to dab at the corner of her eye and bit her lip for full measure. “Am I… Am I simply not good enough for you?”

If jaws could drop, Theseus would have to pick his right back up. How was he supposed to reply to that? “I… Leta, wait. W-what are…” He stammered out, trying to get his brain to think of something witty or convincing. Words failing him at the crucial moment, he did the simplest thing he could think of. Mumbling an apology out to Arialle, Theseus shifted so he was grabbing Leta’s hand instead. With a tug, he marched hurriedly out of the department, heading towards the Aurors’ resting area - a row of small rooms with bunk beds meant for those who were working long shifts.

 

The brown-haired man ushered Leta into the room, not bothering with closing the door. Flustered he may be, Theseus was still very much aware that an unrelated (or related, for that matter) man and a woman should not be caught in a room together, during office hours. 

Leta made herself comfortable on the lower bunk bed, smiling innocently at him. “Nice place.” Theseus scratched the back of his head and took a seat at a high-backed chair at the corner of the room. “Thank you Leta. This is the second time you’ve saved me from Arialle, though I don’t doubt that your means of saving me will surely lead to some office gossip.” He noticed how she shrugged it off with a wave, and wondered how often she was subjected to it, to be able to act like it was a trivial matter. Theseus felt a pang in his heart, when he noted how nonchalant she seemed to be. 

“It was nothing. You’re lucky I like you enough. Consider that as my payment for your favour.”

“You’re lucky I like you too. Well then, how may I be of assistance? What were you doing at the International Cooperation side?”

“Tell me what you know about this group of people identified as Romani. As for my purpose?” Leta whipped out her contract and showed off the parchment. "I'll be starting work here next Monday."

Theseus eyed the contract. Then at Leta. And back to the contract again.

A wide smile spread across his face and he resisted giving Leta one of his famous hugs. Instead, he settled for wildly flailing his arms in the air, and flashing her two thumbs up.

"Congratulations Leta! This is wonderful! If schedules permit, we can even grab lunch together!"

Leta was slightly taken aback from her friend's reaction. Sure, in her heart she was expecting him to be glad that she had found employment...but this? Seeing his happiness and excitement made her feel warm inside.

It was a rare feeling. No one had made her feel this way in a long time. 

"Yes, lunch would be great. Theseus, I don't want to take up too much of your time. Is there anything you can tell me about the Romani? It's...um... Fairly important."

Theseus cocked his head to one side, contemplating about her question. He knew there was a very new case involving them that came in today, and Travers was in-charge of that case. It was classified, for some reason. “They are a nomadic tribe. Not too sure about them, our department seldom pays attention to the profiles of groups who aren’t in any trouble.” _Until today, that is._ “Why do you ask?”

“Nott. Long story short, he mentioned them when he came to find me. I heard it being discussed in a room as I was coming to find you. I can’t help but think that something bigger is going on. I wondered, and thought you might know.”

“I see… Well I don’t. At least, not yet. Not right now. I can’t give out information either, even if I knew. These are classified reports.”

Leta nodded her understanding. “Is there anywhere that might have information on this group of people?”

Theseus pondered. “Flourish and Blotts might have some history books, you could try it out.” Tapping his fingers on the table, he mentally noted something. “Leta, you said Nott mentioned Romani? Does he own that dodgy little shop in Knockturn Alley that sells trinkets and stuff? Dark items?” Noting an affirmative response, he continued. “I have to get back to work, but I would like to know more. Meet me after work at the Atrium? We can have dinner to celebrate your new job, and talk in more detail if you’d like.”

Leta smirked. “Alright. Why Theseus, if this is a date, it’s a rather lousy attempt isn’t it? Asking me out after I catch you with another girl, only to talk about another man? How scandalous!” 

Theseus snorted and imitated his companion. “Why Leta, if this is a date, then would you consent to it?”

“Yes.”

 

The silence that followed that reply was enough for people to hear a quill drop.

 

Leta Lestrange stared at Theseus, daring him to reply. Outwardly, her facade was one of confidence and amusement, but inside she was _panicking_.

_Why did she have to blurt that out?!_

Yes, she liked him. She will deny liking him of course, it could not be possible to have a crush on someone after meeting him a couple of times. They had only just become friends! If Theseus knew, would he still remain as her friend? No, she will have a strictly platonic friendship with him. She's rather have him as a friend forever, than none at all.

As she expected, he didn’t say a word. A strange sense of disappointment seeped into her pores. _What have I done?_

 

The auror, on the other hand, was trying to coax his brain into working properly. Right now his eyes were caught up in the dark orbs which had intrigued him since the first meeting many months ago. Once, they were sorrowful. Dark, and not because of the colour. Now, there was a sort of a glint in them, and it was fast becoming buried in. 

“No. Sorry, I made things very awkward didn’t I? A friendly outing, that’s wha-”

“Leta”, Theseus cut her off. “It’s a date. With some work thrown in, but… A date nonetheless. It would be my honour and pleasure to take you out to dinner.”

They smiled at each other, one shy; the other goofy. 

 

_Thank you._

_The pleasure’s mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I do not speak French. I google-translated "It's good to hear" to "C’est bon à entendre". I hope its grammatically correct? 
> 
> 2) Arialle is born from Arial. Yes, the font. I'm bad with names in general, so I just made up another one from an existing name. If there is another Arialle out there, or one with a similarly-spelt name, please know that it is purely coincidental.


	12. Sao Paulo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leta and Theseus need to sort out their thoughts. Meanwhile, Vinda snoops and finds a lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for slow updating. I'm working towards a one-chapter-per-month update for now, because I've got a long-ass work course to attend for a few months.

"Any news?"

The silence that followed his question annoyed him, and he offered his lieutenant an expression of disappointment. He knew she abhorred it.

"Well then Vinda, if you have nothing worthwhile to share then perhaps you're more useful to me somewhere else."

The young woman opposite him, standing ramrod straight from fear, gulped her anxiety down. She knew she should have given that dark artifact dealer a deadline to report by. Perhaps mark him with something so that she could track him down as and when she pleased. But no, she didn't do all that. She has screwed up. 

"Sir, please accept my apologies. I will locate our dealer immediately. I promise you I will work hard and correct my foolishness. Please."

Gellert Grindelwald observed his young right-hand woman. Vinda Rosier had joined him some months ago and her ruthlessness and desire to please him - thereby furthering his cause - had gained his attention and favour. Well, of course she would perform well. He had scouted for her. And as always, his efforts paid off extremely well. She succeeded where others failed, cleaned up messes without complaints and gotten whatever he wanted. All she ever asked for, was a speck of his acknowledgement. For a job well done. 

So for his lovely lady to _fail_ at something that seemed so simple… Gellert knew that people made mistakes when distracted and honestly he wasn’t that angry at her. He just had quite a kick from watching her squirm under his gaze. Such power and control over a formidable person. Once upon a time, he did held the same influence over another man. Goodness knows how much he loved that thrill. 

“Very well Vinda. You are one of my best acolytes, if not already the best, and you have never once failed me. This is still an on-going mission of yours, so see to it that any issues are… Rectified. Is that clear, my lovely young prodigy?”

Vinda’s eyes lit up with hope, the fire in her burned brightly at the second chance to right her wrongs. She bowed and left Gellert’s office, hurriedly rushing off to track down her dealer. Mallory Nott. She needed to find him, and fast. 

She’d start by searching his pathetic excuse of a shop.

* * *

“And that was how my little brother realized that vultures were indeed bald by nature, and not because some muggle was abusing those creatures!”

Leta’s laughter filled Theseus’s ears and mind. The first time he heard it, it made him addicted to the melodious sound. He loved seeing her relaxed and happy, her eyes burning with her fiery spirit; not the brooding, moody, edgy woman he saw a few hours ago.

\---Flashback---

The rest of the afternoon went pleasantly well, in Theseus's opinion. Arialle had made herself scarce when he went back to the office, much to his relief. Travers was back from his meeting and had taken over micro-managing his assistant. Goodness, nearly a whole day wasted over entertaining a young adult's questions and comments. If he ever had to have an assistant in future, he hoped it would be someone more inclined to work than mindless chatting. Someone like… _An image of a certain Lestrange flashed in his mind._ Sweet Merlin, that was someone whose sarcastic chatter he wouldn't mind _one bit_. 

Theseus had met up with Leta at the Atrium. She spotted him almost immediately after he stepped out of the elevators, and had dragged him away to the sides as the crowds of off-work employees rushed towards the fireplaces. 

There were whispers from other wizarding folk when they spotted Leta. After all, her family was similarly as notorious as House Blacks. She sighed. She _hated_ it. To be automatically assumed to be as dark as her other family members just by name association. Theseus noted her expression and struck up a conversation about dinner. The crowd soon dispersed. Both wizard and witch stepped into their fireplace, agreeing to meet at the Leaky Cauldron. 

\---End flashback---

They were now in an inn within Diagon Alley, enjoying a quiet dinner. One of the benefits of eating out on a work day was that there were fewer customers. Jokes were shared, experiences compared, and Theseus never wanted this moment to end. He felt really comfortable when he was with Leta, for some inexplicable reason. She was neither his good nor best friend, seeing how they’ve only had a handful of meetings, but it just felt right. 

“So Leta, about Nott… Why is he tracking a bunch of divination experts?”

“I don’t know, but if you have something.. _anything_ … That I can work with... ”

And Theseus did just that, sharing as much unclassified information as he could about the Romani.

 

Apparently, the Romani were groups of people with Asian origins. As with any other ethnicity, some travelled far and wide, settling in the European and South American continents. They faced discrimination for being different, and each time they tried to defend themselves they were persecuted by wizarding folk and muggles alike. These Romani... They were also powerful practitioners of divination, amongst others. It is believed that their divination prowess had something to do with Dark Magic, and even within the wizarding community, dark wizards and witches sought the body parts, notably organs and bones, of Romani to greatly enhance their own power. 

 

Leta processed all that with a shudder. She felt pity for the hunted, and sympathy for those who lived in fear. To have no freedom, and to be cursed at for acting in self-defense?

How could anyone use pieces of a dead person for spellwork?

_Then again, her uncle would. And that silly fool called Mallory Nott._

_And_ **_she_ ** _was the one who told Mallory to find her uncle. If things go south with the Ministry and it links back to the Lestranges… Mallory the Sneak would make_ **_her_ ** _his scapegoat._

 

"So.. Powers of divination and an association to the dark arts. Are they all like that?"

Theseus shook his head. "Whatever I've managed to procure were just based on accounts and sightings from wizarding and non-wizarding folk. My department deals with anyone who runs afoul of the law, so we only have… the negative side of things."

"Hmm… Still there is a high chance that Nott is helping questionable people." Leta frowned. She had no idea why this matter was bugging her so much. It was Nott's problem wasn't it? So why did she have this persistent unease? Her instincts told her something was not _right_ with anything. 

"Leta, look I don’t want you to think that I view you as less capable. In fact, it’s really quite the opposite. It’s just… You seem so… Worried?" 

Leta barked out a laugh, her smile not quite meeting her eyes as she looked everywhere but at him. Worried? For Nott? How _absurd_. Finally, she managed to make herself glance over at her dinner companion, only to see his unamused face staring back at her. Undeterred, she grinned at him. “I’m not worried. It’s hardly my problem what Uncle Coloeus and stupid Mallory do in their free time. I was just curious. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s not what I’m seeing, rather it feels like this entire Romani business is eating at you. Are you ok?” Theseus raised both hands helplessly. “Feel free to tell me to butt out, it probably just me being too work-oriented.” 

The witch fell silent, no rebuttals offered. She refused to meet his gaze, knowing that he was looking at her. With pity? Concern? No, who would actually be concerned about her well-being. _Probably pity, but why does that not seem like what Scamander would do?_

“I don’t know. Why do you even care?"

"I- I... Err… I care, because I li...ke my job. And it's my job to ensure you are fine."

“Your job?”

“...“

Leta wasn’t sure whether she was completely fine. Perhaps it was the food? Or the cheap wine? Anyhow something was making her feel odd. This cold...clenching feeling within her that seemed to feel the strongest somewhere around where her heart was. She couldn’t possibly have hoped that someone would care for her right? Of course it would be because of a _job_ . No, perhaps it wasn't what she ate or drank. It was her silly mind thinking that someone would actually care enough about her. She was stupid to think that someone like Theseus would concern himself with her. Even if he did welcome her. Even if he did help her find information. Even when he made her heart flutter when he smiled, grinned, or accidentally brushed against her skin; not that anyone else would know.

Strange, the old her would have flared up in anger and said a thousand unkind words. Here she was, remaining silent and entertaining her own conflicted thoughts. Was she turning soft after making a friend?

 

On the other side, Theseus mentally palmed his face. He wasn't prepared for that particular question to escape from Leta. Sure, he’d heard it many times from Newt but well… It’s Newt. His brother. Clearly he didn’t put in effort into thinking of an appropriate reply because this gut-wrenching feeling that was consuming him? Definitely hinted that he screwed something up. Did he want Leta mad at him? No, never. Did he want her attention on him, with hopes that it would be more positive than negative? Bloody hell, yes.

_Bugger me._

 

“I uh… I apologize. It isn’t the jo- What I mean is... “ Theseus wanted to tear his hair out, how does one fail so spectacularly at apologizing? He cleared his throat. “Nott’s shop is in Knockturn Alley right? Perhaps we could make a trip there and find out clues as to what happened? If it would help you with your answers.” The Auror was eager to make up for his poor judgement, but when Leta finally look up to meet his eyes to murmur her assent, he felt his heart sink. 

The spark in her eyes was gone. 

* * *

Vinda closed the door behind her, shutting out the unruly noises outside at Knockturn Alley, relishing the sudden silence of Nott’s shop. Lighting her wand, she stepped carefully and quietly, making her way to the back of the counter. The place was a mess, and that was her being charitable. Dust, cobwebs, crumpled papers, and a used quill lying on the surface, next to some sinister-looking objects that would make a lesser person quiver. The stench of stale sweat and alcohol invaded her nostrils, enough to make a grown person gag.

But not her of course. 

Vinda raised her eyebrow at a piece of parchment full of scribbles. Notes scratched in with a quill, but nothing that the acolytes hadn’t already know. 

Or not.

There, at the corner of the parchment, circled with ink were two words.

_Sao Paulo._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, whatever I know about the Romani is limited to what I can find online. The only things I own are my headcanons. Apologize in advance if I've gotten anything incorrect/inaccurate.


End file.
